


Zen and the Art of Family Maintenance

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: Nights in Sandbridge [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Come Marking, Extortion, M/M, Oral Sex, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Wedding Night, Wedding Planning, background Carol Danvers/James Rhodes, background Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov - Freeform, background Wanda Maximoff/Sam Wilson, dealing with family, featuring Jan's terrible taste in limos, mentions of switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-21 03:05:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12448374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Bucky and Tony are getting married!But first, they have to get through extortion from Bucky's sister, micro-management from Tony's mother, and the bachelor parties their friends have planned.(This is like 20% family frustration, 65% fluff, and 15% smut. You have been warned.)





	1. Chapter 1

October was as lovely a month as Sandbridge, Virginia ever saw. The wretched heat of summer was finally bleeding off (even if Virginia didn’t have anything at all like what Tony Stark would call autumn -- the leaves turned brown and fell off, without going through that bowl-of-Trix stage that attracted leaf-peepers to the Adirondacks) and tourist season was officially _over_.

This particular season had been long and arduous for a number of reasons. First, it had been the Dockside’s fortieth anniversary -- Winifred and James Barnes, Jr. had broken ground on the restaurant in the late seventies -- and there had been a ton of celebratory events to plan and execute. Second, a sudden and unexpected influx of money had given the current owner, James “Bucky” Barnes, III, the ability to put funding toward an advertising campaign, which had resulted in a nearly thirty percent increase in their customer base since the previous summer. Third, the owner and his partner -- that would be Tony -- were planning their wedding, and they were just a bit on the distracted side.

But now it was the beginning of October, and they were closing down for six weeks. Probably longer, because no one ever believed contractors.

A routine building inspection had revealed some structural weaknesses caused by storm damage, and while those could possibly have been done while remaining open, they’d decided to take advantage of the timing of their wedding and honeymoon. They’d close down, which would get the work done more quickly and safely, and come home when it was mostly done.

Probably.

Tony, who was going to be co-owner as soon as the wedding license was signed and the lawyers pounced (the soon-to-be-wed couple had already signed a long, tedious pre-nup agreement), was sweeping the floor one last time. Yesterday had been their last open day. The staff was on vacation and Bucky himself had gone into town for some errands.

Which was why Tony was so badly startled when a key rattled in the front door and he looked up to see a ghost.

Tony had never met Winifred Barnes, his fiancé’s mother, who’d designed and practically built Dockside with her own two hands. But he’d seen pictures.

She was tall, broad shouldered, with long brown hair shot with white streaks, brilliant stormcloud gray eyes, a full mouth, and the sort of facial bone structure that models would have sold their souls for. She was busty, with a nip-narrow waist and generous hips. She wore jeans and a tank top with a light sweater tied around her waist.

“You’d think he’d change the locks once a decade or so,” the woman muttered, bouncing a ring of keys on her hand and then tucking them in her pocket.

She finally turned her head and caught a glimpse of Tony, who was still frozen and staring. She startled, which broke Tony out of his own shock, and he realized that this woman was younger, even than the youngest pictures of Winifred -- except maybe the bridal portrait that Bucky had finally hung up in the room that had once been Winifred’s sewing room -- and that she couldn’t possibly be a ghost. (Probably.)

Based on her appearance, that meant --

“Hey,” she said, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face. “I’m Becca Barnes. Is my baby brother around?”

Yep. Tony wondered what Bucky was going to say. So much for a relatively quiet week or so before everything ramped up for the wedding. “In town,” he said. He fished his phone out of his pocket and texted Bucky. _yr sisters here._ “Have a seat, I’m sure he’ll be home as soon as he can.”

She jumped up onto one of the picnic tables, swinging her heels and kicking at the legs. Becca Barnes studied Tony for a long moment. “You’re him, then?”

Tony dragged the little pile of dirt -- tracked-in sand, mostly -- into a neater circle. “I expect so, assuming _him_ means your brother’s fiancé.”

Becca glanced down at her hands, then back up at Tony, a gesture that she shared with her brother. The steely expression on her face was nothing like Bucky’s, though. It was cold. Calculating. “I understand condolences are in order,” she observed. “On the loss of your father.”

New text from Bucky:  
_Becca? Ur kidding. Tell me ur kidding._

To Bucky: _that’s who she says she is. she has a key._

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for the dustpan. “I mean, it’s been a few months, I’m pretty much over it.” That wasn’t altogether true, but the things he’d heard about Becca didn’t make him think she was a good confidante.

New text from Bucky:  
_OMW. 15mins. ::heart emojii:: Yikes ::wide eyes emojii::_

“I take it you’re the bank account behind my baby brother making good on what he owes me at last,” she said. She wasn’t quite looking at him, her gaze flickering over the brag wall, the ancient host podium, the new cash register/computer. “Can’t believe he managed to keep this place standing.”

“More or less,” Tony admitted. “Though I haven’t dropped much money into the restaurant itself yet.” That was technically true; the checks to the contractors doing the repairs hadn’t cleared yet. “It’s a good place.”

“That’s good,” Becca said. She had the same restless nature as her brother. She managed to sit still for exactly four minutes and nineteen seconds before she was up again, walking around, poking at things that were probably not her business. She pored over the photos on the wall as if comparing them to her older memories, stuck her head in the kitchens -- and then went deeper, as far as opening the big freezer and raising her eyebrows at the new industrial dishwasher -- before rattling the knob to Bucky’s office. Which was locked. And she didn’t seem to have that key, at least.

Tony didn’t try to stop her -- she’d been bought out, but it had still been her home, once -- but he kept one eye on her as he finished the sweeping and brought in the chairs from the porch seating. “He’ll be here soon,” Tony said on one of his trips in.

“You’re not having the wedding here,” she noted. “I’m surprised by that. Always thought Jimmy wanted to live and die in this place.” She laughed, light, but it didn’t seem to bring any warmth to the room. “I probably should have RSVP’d. Didn’t think I was going to come ‘til the last minute, really. It’s a bit of a drive from Atlanta, an’ there were… well, arrangements to be made.”

“It’s also not until next weekend,” Tony said, “but you’re welcome, of course. We thought about something small and quiet here, actually, but eventually... decided otherwise.” Partly because of the repairs, and partly as a compromise with Tony’s mother, who had been distraught that they weren’t having the wedding in New York, but had settled for the fanciest venue she could find in Virginia Beach.

“I guess we’ll see how my chat with Jimmy goes,” she said. “Anthony Stark… Huh. What did he do to land you? I gotta say, that was a shock. Looked you up, you know.” She dug through her bag and eventually came out with a battered pack of Virginia Slims. “Come out on the porch, have a smoke? Or, stand there while I smoke, I guess.”

Tony shrugged and followed her out. “He hates that name,” he observed. “I don’t know what you’re here to ‘chat’ with him about, but if you want it going at all your way, don’t put his back up by calling him Jimmy.” Her very presence was going to put Bucky’s back up, he knew, but he would rather it remain at least generally in the vicinity of civil.

She lit her cigarette, took a deep drag, and then blew out a smoke ring. “He still going by Bucky, is he? Or did he finally decide James wasn’t poisonous?” She didn’t look out to the ocean, leaning her back against the rail and facing the building instead.

Tony shrugged. “He lets my mother call him James.” He faced the ocean, because it was easier to watch her that way, and because the ocean was worth watching.

She flicked her cigarette. “I make you nervous,” she said. “That’s… usually I only make visitors nervous. And sometimes idiot doctors. Especially ones who don’t read the file. But it’s okay. We can…”

Whatever it was that she’d been about to say was going to have to wait, since Bucky’s truck -- the same Dodge Ram he’d had for at least ten years, even if Tony had taken the whole engine out and put it back together a few times -- pulled into the lot.

“Showtime,” Becca said under her breath and flicked her cigarette stub into the sand in front of the porch, where it smoked sullenly.

Bucky sat in his truck for a moment longer, hands clenched on the steering wheel, then pasted his customer-is-always-right smile onto his face. He opened the truck’s door and stepped out. Bucky’d always been good-looking, bordering right on the edge of beautiful, but since he started letting Tony’s friend Janet Van Dyne select his wardrobe, he had taken masculine beauty to a whole new level. He was in a casual fall outfit: tight jeans, boots, a blue tee with a dark brown cardigan over it and a simple scarf double-looped over his neck, and he looked like he’d just walked off a fashion magazine shoot.

“Becca,” he said, walking up to the porch and just standing there, hands in his pockets, looking up the few steps to where his sister waited. “It’s been a while.”

“Sorry to call you back early,” Tony said, mostly just to remind Bucky he was here, ready to support.

“No worries,” Bucky said. He walked up the stairs, took Tony’s hands and then kissed him briefly. “I can go out later an’ finish up those errands.” He inhaled, deep, slow, steady, and then turned around to face his sister.

Becca chuckled; all ease and warm welcome, which was utterly unlike anything she’d been projecting around Tony for the last twenty minutes or so. “Look at you, little brother,” she said. “You got tall. How ‘bout that?”

“Bound to happen, sooner or later,” Bucky said. He held out a hand uncertainly, and then inhaled on a soft cry as Becca stepped into an embrace and let her brother hug her. “Christ, Bex, it’s been a long damn time.”

Becca let the hug go on for a bit before gently pushing her brother away. “Not long enough, really,” she said, looking around. “Every bad thing in my life came from fuckin’ Virginia Beach. Be just as happy to never lay eyes on it again, frankly.”

A year ago, Tony might’ve said the same thing about New York, so he could understand the sentiment. But Becca was more than a decade older than Bucky; Tony would have thought she’d figured out by now that you couldn’t let the bad things chase you away from the good ones. Not forever. He wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist as Becca stepped back.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, just a little. “So, if you’re here, now… not ten days from now, but now. Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?”

Bucky sighed, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes; he wasn’t one for mid-day smokes, really, just a couple a day, and since Tony had asked him about quitting -- once, really, that was all, he wasn’t even nagging the man about it or anything, certainly nothing on Steve, who’d had a full-blown rant at Bucky on New Year’s Eve -- he’d been skipping the evening one most of the time, too. It was a brand new pack and he twisted the cellophane wrapper off and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Money.”

Becca gave him a shark’s smile, all full of teeth. “Money,” she agreed.

Yeah, that’s what Tony’d been afraid of.

***

At least she didn’t beat around the bush, Bucky supposed.

Which left him with a conflict of interests. He couldn’t accuse her of anything; she wasn’t lying or trying to mend fences or even trying to guilt him into anything. Not that she had to. Bucky knew his own tendency to feel guilty about just about damn near _everything_.

On the one hand, he had money. Or he would, as soon as he and Tony tied the knot in less than two weeks. That thought always made him smile, just a bit. He was very, very much looking forward to having a husband. Legally, if he wanted to approach it that way, he would still have some money if Tony broke the engagement off now; it was part of the prenup. Bucky had rolled his eyes, but Tony had insisted that breach of contract was a legitimate thing. Not, Bucky reminded himself, that he expected Tony to walk out on him.

On the other hand… it was still _Becca_ and he hadn’t forgiven her for the last time she’d come to him with her hand held out, expectant. Maybe, if she’d act the least bit sorry. Or grateful. Or like she was his goddamn _sister_ and not… whatever it was she thought she was.

He didn’t say a word while he smoked his cigarette and Becca didn’t try to force small talk on him. She just watched him, occasionally flicking her eyes at Tony.

He stubbed his butt finally and tossed it in the ashcan. “Kitchen’s closed down for the renovations,” Bucky said, finally. “But I can offer you a cup of coffee if you want.”

“Why not?” Becca asked, rhetorical. She turned to Tony. “Three sugars, no milk, if you please.”

“Look at that,” Tony said, dry, “she’s already treating us like a single unit.” He kissed Bucky’s cheek, and whispered, “Don’t agree to anything until we can talk to Jenn.” He flashed Becca the smile that he reserved for hostile press, and left them to it.

“I will never understand,” Becca said, taking one of the few chairs left on the patio seating, “how everything bad in my life comes from here, and how you get so damned lucky.”

“Because nothing bad that happens to you is _ever_ your own fault,” Bucky snapped. Not that he disagreed with her, really. He’d been unusually lucky. His adopted family was fucking amazing. His husband-to-be was so incredible as to be unreal; there were still days when Bucky woke up in the morning to stare at Tony’s perfect face and tousled hair and wonder how the hell he’d deserved this. “You want to just throw a number on the table and get it over with?”

“Why don’t I point out my leverage, before you laugh at me?” Becca reached into her bag and pulled out a fat envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Copy of our agreement, when you bought out my share of Dockside. The pertinent information is highlighted.” Because Becca always, always had to be a smug-ass bitch. Bucky unfolded the papers absently, trying to hide a smirk. He scanned through the document. If Becca thought whatever ambulance-chasing, cheap-ass shyster she’d talked to in Atlanta was going to pull one over on the team that Stark Industries had, she was in for a --

Oh.

Oh. _Fuck_.

Tony was going to _kill_ him.

Becca clicked her tongue. “I’ll let you discuss that with _Jenn_.”

“Becca --”

“The answer is no, little brother. It’s a legally binding agreement. No, I won’t ‘be reasonable.’ I won’t ‘get along because we’re family.’ And I certainly will not ‘ _play nice_.’ I have the right, and I am telling you, my price is going to be _high_.”

She stood up, smirked, and nearly knocked Tony over as he was coming out with coffee. “Thanks anyway,” she said, “But I need to go get a hotel. I’ll… come back tomorrow. At ten. Nice meeting you.” And she walked away.

Bucky watched her drive away and then buried his face in his hands. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.”

Tony watched her leave, then set the coffee gently on the railing. “How bad is it?”

“Tell me it’s wrong to hate her, Tony,” Bucky pleaded from behind his fingers. “I’m a bad person, right?”

Tony snorted. “I’m the last person you should ask to defend family _qua_ family, you know that. What’s her hook?”

Bucky flattened the copy of the contract to the table with one splayed hand. “Right of first refusal. There’s a clause in there, in case I sold after I paid her off. Some language in there about if I sell for more than the land and building was assessed, about squaring up with her, which is all I ever thought it would be used for. But she doesn’t have to state a _reason_ and I can't force her to do the work. She can use this to keep me from letting you partner, be co-owner. Just to be a bitch.”

Tony cocked his head, skimming the text. “Only if she’s willing to be co-owner in my stead,” he pointed out. “You think she’d actually take that on, just to be a bitch?”

Bucky tipped his chin to look up at his boyfriend. “You just _met_ my sister,” he said. “What do you think?”

Tony sighed, and threaded his fingers through Bucky’s hair, soothing. “I think I’ll want to call Jenn sooner rather than later.”

Bucky glared off in the direction of town. “You know, if she just acted like family, just a little bit, once in a while, I’d give her the fucking money. You know that.”

“I know, baby. If she wasn’t determined to make your life miserable, I’d be happy to help her out, myself.” He kissed the top of Bucky’s head. “We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony paid a great deal of money to have a lawyer on retainer. She wasn’t his own personal lawyer; since he’d sold his shares of most of Stark Industries, he didn’t require one full-time. But he did give Jennifer Walters a sum to make sure she was available for him when he needed her.

Jenn was tall, with dark hair and a streak of the rebellious in her. When she was ready for court appointments, her hair was tied up in a neat, professional bun, but when she was on her own, or with her more favored clients, she had a hidden under-dye of brilliant green. She met Tony and Bucky that afternoon at one of the nicer coffee shops in Virginia Beach and she was dressed casually, her hair up in a half pony-tail that showed off the color.

“So,” Jenn said, stirring her coffee absently with a little wooden stick. “I did a quick bit of digging based on what you said on the phone. Nothing major or intrusive, just public record stuff.”

Tony hooked his ankle around Bucky’s and sipped at his coffee. “Find anything interesting?”

Jenn nodded. She dunked her biscotti in her cup and nibbled the end. “She’s badly in debt. During the housing crash, she got underwater in her mortgage; it was an 80/20 and the value of her home tanked. She’s still living there, but she’s carrying a mortgage that’s more than double what the house is worth, at current value. Also she works as an Emergency room nurse, which is well known for terrible pay and long hours--” She pulled out a file and slid a photograph across the table “-- and she’s a single mother.”

The photograph was a blown up copy of a school photo, a child in the first or second grade level based on the gap-toothed grin, with black hair, brilliant green eyes and a light dusting of freckles across her nose. There was no doubting the Barnes nose or cheekbones, though. “Based on what you said about her, I’m not sure this is information she’s shared with members of her immediate family.”

Tony glanced at Bucky for corroboration -- they’d been together for months before he’d even mentioned _having_ a sister, and all Tony knew about her was that she’d hated both Dockside and Virginia Beach for as long as Bucky could remember, that she’d left as soon as physically possible, and that Bucky hadn’t seen her since their mother’s funeral six years ago.

“Oh my god.” Bucky stared at the picture, then snatched it up. “Holy… Rebecca Jeanne Barnes, why the _fuck_ wouldn’t you tell someone?”

Tony sighed. “Okay, that... alters the landscape a little,” he admitted. He pointed at Bucky. “She’s still a bitch, though. Why would she essentially blackmail you for money and risk all the many extremely unpleasant things I could have my lawyers do to her in revenge rather than just admit she needed help? Because she’s a bitch.” He eyed Jenn. “No bead on the father?”

Jenn shook her head. “Couldn’t find a record of a marriage license, and the birth certificate lists no father. Her name is Isabelle Barnes, no middle name.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky said. “You know, I… of course she wouldn’t tell anyone. Dad was pressuring her for married and babies practically before she was out of high school. And… well, Dad wasn’t what you’d call modern or reasonable about sex outside of wedlock. He would have been deeply disappointed in her and would have made no bones about saying so.” He sighed. “Christ, what a mess.”

“You are not legally obligated to support your sister, or her child,” Jenn pointed out. “Even with the right of first refusal. She can make your life difficult, emotionally. But legally? I don’t think there’s anything she can do, especially if she doesn’t want to take on the job of co-owner.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to be the problem,” Tony said, watching the way Bucky was still staring at the picture of the niece he’d never known he had. “We’re happy to make sure they’re doing okay; family is... important to Bucky.” He put his hand on Bucky’s arm and squeezed. “I do want to make sure there’s a limit to how much she can milk us for, though,” he told Jenn. “Keeping their heads above water is one thing; funding a life of luxury is quite another.”

“Your best bargaining chip,” Jenn said, “is to call her bluff. If she’s co-owner instead of you, she assumes the responsibility of debt. And -- no offense, Mr. Barnes, but without the influx of investment you’ve had in the last year, Dockside would be sliding into debt.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I knew that,” he said. “Was tryin’ to keep things going, but… I was giving myself four years before I’d have to sell. Didn’t know what I was gonna do, once that happened, but…” He shrugged. “The way to make a little money in the restaurant business is to start with a _lot_ of money.”

“So, what, set our price and tell her it’s that or she can take her chances with the restaurant?” Tony asked. “Jenn, you know I’m not going to let the place fail just to prove a point.”

Jenn smiled brightly. “She doesn’t know that, though. She’s counting on Bucky being a soft touch, but she also knows what kind of world you come from. Let her think you’re exactly the kind of shark that, by all I’ve heard, your father was.”

Bucky snorted. “No need t’ be insulting… to the sharks, I mean.” He stared morosely into his coffee cup. “How much?”

Jenn consulted her brief. “I’d suggest you offer to pay off her mortgage, or help her find new housing, plus putting aside money for Isabelle’s education and supplementing your sister’s income to put her firmly in the middle class. She’d still have to work and honestly, child care is her greatest concern, aside from the mortgage. Twenty-five-thousand a year total, in separate accounts. The education fund could grow, and legally, your sister wouldn’t have any rights to that money, which I think you’ll agree is a consideration.”

Tony nodded, and glanced at Bucky. “Yeah?”

Bucky scrubbed at his face with both hands. “This is… so not fair to you, Tony. I’m sorry. God! My sister. Seriously, there is something deeply, _deeply_ wrong with that woman.”

“You can’t help that,” Tony said. He nodded to Jenn. “Set it up. Leave the actual amounts blank so we can fill them in at the table, in case we’re able to adjust, but throw in all the stuff that’ll keep us out of hot water. Especially, make sure she agrees to give up those first-refusal rights.”

“I don’t suppose there can be a clause in there for reasonable expectations as a family member. Vistin’ once in a while and bein’ nice or something,” Bucky said.

Jenn shook her head. “I’m afraid congenial behavior can’t be regulated by law, Mr. Barnes.”

“Probably for the best,” Tony said, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine someone trying to make Steve be _nice_ to you.”

Bucky reached a hand over to Tony and twined their fingers together. “You’re okay with this, babe? I mean, until next weekend, it’s still your money, an’ Becca doesn’t really have a right to it. It ain’t even hardly fair that she’s askin’ and she’s not being exactly nice about it.”

“Honey, it’s not even as much as you pay Steve. And I’m not doing it for her. If it was just her, I’d be happy to unleash every bit of Jenn’s ingenuity on her. I’m doing it because that little girl doesn’t deserve that, even if Becca does.” He pulled Bucky’s hand closer and kissed Bucky’s fingers. “It’s okay.”

“Unfortunately, if we’re providing money for Isabelle’s education, we’re gonna have to let Becca know that we know about her. They’ll be able to hear th’ screeching in North Carolina.”

“To be fair, North Carolina’s not that terribly far away, Mr. Barnes,” Jenn pointed out. She leaned back in her chair. “And, if I might add to Mr. Stark’s reassurances, I would be more eager to get you out of this except for one thing. This money is not for her, or even for her daughter, Mr. Barnes. It’s for _you_. I’ve been observing you two for quite some time. Call it peace of mind money. You spend it, instead of stewing in guilt and misery about it.”

Tony grinned and shrugged at Bucky. “She’s not wrong.”

Jenn took off her glasses and put them on top of her brief. “It’s a pleasure, once again, to work with you, Mr. Stark,” she said. “Tony. Bucky. Attorney-client privilege prevents me from identifying them, but I work with and for some very unpleasant people. It’s always refreshing to be of use to people who are decent. Thank you.”

Tony offered her a hand. “I could say the same,” he pointed out. “I appreciate your dedication and understanding. Can you be ready by tomorrow morning, or should we put her off a while?”

“This is almost boilerplate,” Jenn said. “But we can make her wait for it, if you want to be petty. I approve of pettiness. It’s a great deal of the satisfaction I get out of my work.”

Bucky laughed, putting his hands flat on the table and throwing his head back with it. “Oh, by all means, let’s annoy the _hell_ out of my sister for a while. I might enjoy that.”

“Petty it is, then,” Tony agreed, clapping his hands. “We’ll schedule some meetings and then reschedule them. Be sure to let me know when you _really_ have an opening to do the paperwork.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” Jenn said. She finished her coffee and pushed away from the little table. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

***

“No, Bex,” Bucky said into the cell phone. “It’s lawyers, they take their sweet fuckin’ time with stuff. We’ll reschedule.” He paused, rolling his eyes. “Well, if you’d let me put you up in the rental, you wouldn’t have a hotel bill… Fine, fine, Becca, I’ll take care of it, just… Look, this is hardly my fault. No. I have shit to do today. I’m getting married in six days, stop. Just. Stop. Right. No. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bucky punched the end call icon with a little more force than absolutely necessary. “God, she’s seething,” Bucky said. “Just as well she won’t let me put her in the rental. I can’t decide if it would be horrifically cruel, or hilarious, to sic both Jan and Carol on her when they get here.”

Natasha reached over and yanked Bucky’s hair. “Be nice. I like Jan.”

“I vote hilarious,” Tony said. He held up his hands when Nat glared at him. “Hey, she was my friend first!” he pointed out. “I’m just saying, if we really wanted to make Becca feel the burn, we’d tell Jan what was going on and unleash her.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “If that woman tries one more time to put me in a pink shirt, I’m going to vote siccing her on Becca just so she’ll leave me alone.”

“It wasn’t _pink_ ,” Bucky said, in his best Jan voice, “it was _salmon_.” And Steve had looked delicious in the shirt, but Bucky wasn’t going to bother to point it out. He scrubbed at his face with one hand. “Where is your mother? She wanted everyone here for one last ‘is there anything we forgot to do’ meeting…”  

“It’s Mom, she’s going to be fashionably late,” Tony said. “And I’m sure she’ll arrive with a list in-hand of everything we forgot to do.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather elope? I even have a ladder,” Bucky said. He ran his thumb along Tony’s jaw. “We’ve already got the license, I’m sure we can get some church pastor in North Carolina to sign it in like… an hour. We could have the whole thing done by tomorrow morning.”

Tony leaned into the touch. “I’m beginning to come around to this idea,” he said. “Ask me again after this meeting.”

Nat kicked someone under the table; it wasn’t Bucky, through, which was really all he cared about. Nat had pointy feet. “I do not approve of this plan. I am looking forward to the wedding. Cake. And little tiny foods on little tiny plates. And wine. And dancing. You will not be spoiling this thing for me, Bucky.”

“This is your fault,” Bucky said, pointing at Steve. “Somehow. It has to be.”

“What? I made us a cake that would feed a hundred people for a wedding that had less than twenty guests. It’s hardly my fault that she ate all the leftovers in a month.”

“Oh, there you are, darlings,” Maria Stark said, sailing in with a grand sweep of her pale peach dress. “The traffic around here is simply beastly, some days.” She came ‘round and pecked Tony on the cheek and then Bucky. “James, dear, I spoke with the caterer again, so here, I’ll want you to look over some last minute revisions to the menu. Antonio, I don’t know anything about these musical selections from the DJ, so please make sure there’s nothing terrible on there. You know Gillian gets upset when there’s particularly lewd lyrics. Steven, the jeweler is ready to deliver the wedding bands, so make sure you get them. And Natalia, darling… well, you’re perfect, as usual, dear.”  

Nat preened, and Tony rolled his eyes at her before taking the sheets his mother thrust at him and beginning to scan them. “Ugggh,” he whined. He leaned over and stole a pen from Nat’s hand and began scratching through “objectionable” songs. “It’s not Mrs. Danvers’ wedding,” he pointed out, “so I don’t know why she gets to complain about our music.”

“Just move ‘em around,” Bucky suggested, leaning over to look. “If I know Carol’s mom, she’ll have a few drinks during dinner and she won’t notice a little bit of risque music by halfway through the dancing. It’ll be fine. Well, probably not that song, no, that one’s pretty lewd, even by my standards.”

“That’s why I like it,” Tony said, waggling his eyebrows, but he crossed out the song, then went back and re-numbered some of the others. “How’d you get to know Mrs. Danvers so well?”

“Carol and I have a very active email correspondence,” Bucky said. “I don’t know how it happened, really, but she just seemed to need someone to bitch at.”

“James,” Maria said, reprovingly, “there’s no call to use that sort of language.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Bucky said, which was always the way to Maria Stark’s heart and forgiveness. She was a sucker for Bucky’s big eyes and southern manners.

“She’s just using you to spy on me,” Tony said. “Never underestimate a Danvers’ deviousness.” He leaned over Bucky’s arm. “What changed on the menu?”

“Added a couple of gluten-free items, yuck, but I don’t have t’ eat ‘em,” Bucky said, “and put together a carb-count sheet for Danielle’s mom, who’s diabetic.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Hey, Mom, did you get that thing sorted out with your dress?”

“Of course, dear,” Maria said. “I went to the shop and spoke to the seamstress myself.”

“Hooboy,” Tony huffed, “do I owe the shop for psychological damages or--” He broke off laughing as Maria shook her finger at him threateningly.

The “lunch” meeting dragged on for almost another two hours, with various discussions, debates, stories, and concerns. The eloping thing was looking better all the time. Even if there was absolutely no need for Bucky to employ a ladder (they lived together, for fuck’s sake, in Bucky’s house) or climbing out of windows or any of that sort of thing (although it might have been fun and made for a good story later).

Just before they all got up to leave, Bucky took Maria’s hand and said, “I don’t know if I’ve said it, but thank you.” It was Bucky. He said thank you more times a day than a cashier at Wal-Mart, honestly. “For helping us out, for making a special day even better. But mostly, I wanted to thank you for Tony. He’s a wonderful man and I love him, and I can’t think of what he’d be like without your influence. Thank you. For having a wonderful son, and for letting him be part of my life.”

Maria’s eyes welled; she patted Bucky’s cheek gently and then pulled him into a hug. “Thank _you_ ,” she said, her voice wavering, “for seeing him for himself, and loving him for it.”

“Couldn’t help that part, Mom,” Bucky said. He turned to look at Tony, his entire heart in his eyes. “Didn’t know what falling in love meant, ‘til I met him. Easiest thing in the world.”

Steve, who was not as nice or mannerly (or in need of having a mother-in-law firmly in good graces) made a gagging sound until Nat elbowed him in the stomach. “Oh, be quiet, Steven. It is cute!”

“Yeah, I might vote with Steve,” Tony said. He wormed his way between Bucky and Maria. “Stop trying to get my mom to like you more than me,” he complained, grinning. “At this rate, you’re going to elope with _her_ instead.”

“Don’t be foolish, Antonio,” Maria said, patting Tony’s shoulder. “I am delighted by both my sons equally.” She kissed Tony’s cheek, then Nat’s. “I shall let you know if I require anything else in the next day. And I shall see you for dinner on Thursday.”

“If I eat dinner out any more this week, I will not fit into my bridesmaid’s dress,” Nat complained, measuring out her own hips with her hands.

“Well, if you didn’t have all those ice cream emergencies because your cat has a hairball problem, you’d be a perfect ten,” Steve said.

Bucky winced. “Oh, Steve… Steve, Steve, _Steve…_ you are….” Bucky ended up with one eye squinched all the way shut in agony of Steve’s tactlessness.

“Oh, dear,” Maria said.

Tony looped his arms around Bucky and his mother and tugged them both toward the door. “Come on, before the explosions begin.”

Nat’s voice rose in rapid, furious Russian behind them and Bucky was almost falling over, trying not to laugh by the time they got to the door. “Seriously? Seriously, she just went through a list of types of _pastries--_ ” he burst out when they got out onto the sidewalk.

Tony had caught a couple of the words himself -- Nat wasn’t specifically teaching him Russian, but it was hard not to pick some of it up when she and Bucky shot it back and forth so often -- and started laughing. “Probably even better that we left, then,” he pointed out.

Maria shook her head and then tucked a lock of hair that fell loose back into her coiffure. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then, shall I?”

“Good thing we don’t have anything to do straight away tomorrow morning that involves the Rogers Contingent,” Bucky said. “As insulting as he’s being, they’re not getting _any_ sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, that’s going to take them some time to work through,” Tony agreed, eyes twinkling. He bent to kiss his mother’s cheek. “See you Thursday, Mom.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Nat and Steve planned and rehearsed that "argument" just to keep Maria from dragging the discussion out for hours. Because they've been there for all of this planning and she would, in fact, do that.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony woke to the insistent buzzing of his phone. He groped for it without opening his eyes and thumbed it on. “Mmwhat.”

“Are you still _asleep_?” demanded Janet Van Dyne.

“Jan, what the hell.” Tony forced an eyelid open enough to squint at the phone. “It’s only nine in the morning.”

Jan did not have an indoor voice, and her phone-voice was made for yelling out-of-doors in New York City while she was dealing with foot traffic and climbing into cabs, so it was no wonder that Bucky rolled over in the bed and threw a pillow at Tony. “G’way,” he muttered. Jan squawked some more into the phone and Bucky groaned again, pulling another pillow over his head.

“Get up, get up, get UP, Tony, Tony, _Tony_ , come on, we have so much to do today, and look, I already got coffee for you. Well, you can’t see it from there, but come _outside_. I’m in the parking lot.”

Tony whined, because there was no arguing with Jan, and in the end it usually turned out that going along with her was for the best, but he still felt very put-upon; he’d been warm and comfortable and... He whined some more. “Okay, okay, give me like... ten minutes to brush my teeth and put some clothes on.”

“Kiss your boy goodbye,” she purred. “He’ll see you for the wedding. But not until then!”

“...I’ll bring my tux with me, then.” He hesitated. “Jan. You promised we weren’t going to leave the state.”

“We’re not,” Jan said. Tony could almost hear the pout in her voice. “And you have no idea how _hard_ that was, with all the _planning_. Really, it would have been much more fun if you’d let me fly us to Vegas, but I’m _making do_. Hurry up.”

“I’m so proud of your restraint,” he said, and wasn’t even sarcastic. Jan and restraint were not generally on speaking terms. He hung up and then leaned over and nuzzled at the back of Bucky’s neck. “Jan’s kidnapping me for the whole day and apparently night,” he said. “Wanna give me one last kiss while we’re still single?”

Bucky slowly emerged from under the pillow, blinking. His lashes were sleep-clumped and he had an impressive pillow crease across one cheek. “Mphm?” He yawned and stretched. “Got time for a last blowjob before you go?”

Tony’s dick twitched. “Very tempting, but I’ve got about eight minutes now before Jan storms up here and drags me off by my hair.”

Bucky rolled over and ran a hand down Tony’s side, ending with a pat on his hip. “It’s Jan,” he pointed out, reasonably. “She’d wait. She’d probably _watch_ , mind you, but she’d wait.” He leaned closer, nuzzling at Tony’s throat. “I’ll miss you.”

“Mmmm,” Tony sighed, tipping his head to draw Bucky in closer. “Me too. Didn’t realize she’d booked the whole day. ...Probably should’ve. When are you meeting up with everyone for your thing?”

“Headed up to the ‘burg around three, I think?” Bucky said, then nipped at Tony’s collarbone, groping his way down Tony’s chest and stomach. “Sure I can’t tempt you?” He stopped his hand just under Tony’s navel, tracing circles there.

“You _always_ tempt me,” Tony said, because that was true. “But we’d probably better not. I don’t need lessons in technique from Jan the day before my wedding.”

“Alright, baby,” Bucky said. He leaned up on one arm. “Can’t wait to be your husband, you know that, right?” He gave Tony a quick peck on the cheek.

“I know,” Tony said, and kissed Bucky’s lips once, twice, and a lingering third time. “Love you. See you tomorrow.”

Bucky groaned into Tony’s mouth, then flopped back onto the bed. “I’ll count the hours,” he said. He dragged the pillow back over his head and by the time Tony was dressed and had brushed his teeth, Bucky was asleep again, or faking it really, really well.

Tony grinned at him fondly, then grabbed the garment bag with his tux, stuffed his wallet into his pocket, and went outside. A hideous, brilliant yellow Humvee limo was parked across what seemed like half of Dockside’s parking lot, and Jan was leaning against it, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. “I’m coming!” Tony called, jogging down the stairs.

Jan squealed in delight, bouncing around on her ridiculous heels. As soon as he was down the stairs, she hugged him around the neck. “Here!” she yelled in his ear. “I have a tiara for you.” She shoved a headband into his hair, too heavy to be one of those plastic novelty items. “And so, so much fun planned for today. Let’s go, let’s go! We’ve gotta get everyone together, just… everyone. And coffee? Or champagne? Both! No, that would be gross, not together. Yuck. Come on, come on. Ug, you need to change. Lucky you, I brought clothes already, they’re in the car. Let’s go, Tony, what are you just _standing around_ for?”

Tony let Jan push him into the limo. He focused on the familiar coffee cup she pressed into his hands -- not his usual plain black, but a frothy sweet concoction that tasted rather like someone had put a scoop of ice cream in the microwave for a couple of minutes. Drinking his breakfast, then, he supposed, and settled back into the spot Jan dictated. He didn’t bother to ask questions -- she’d have the whole event planned like clockwork, he knew, and years of experience told him it was best to just let things unfold.

Carol was already in the limo; like most military, she could sleep just about anywhere. She was curled up onto the end near the driver, untouched coffee in the cupholder near her head. She woke up just enough to open her eyes, look at Tony, give him a thumbs up and then rolled over.

Jan took out her phone. “Looks like your friend Jim is up, we’ll go get him first,” she said. “He just got in last night, but, I don’t know, military people. Some of them actually get sleep at night like normal people.” She gave Carol a fond glower.

“Your fault,” Carol muttered. “Next time, don’t talk me into binging _Brooklyn 99_ with you until three am.”

“You could’ve gotten Rhodey and Bruce first,” Tony said, taking another gulp of his vaguely coffee-flavored sugar. “Then I could’ve slept in. I feel like I’m the one who should’ve gotten to sleep in, here.” And to have sleepy morning sex, too; that would’ve been nice.

“Could have,” Jan said, sing-song, “but didn’t. Grouchy, sleepy Tony.” She lay back on the limo’s bench, leaning her head on Tony’s thigh. “There’s a bag over there --” she pointed lazily. “Put on some decent jeans and a nicer shirt, you look like a ragbag.”   

Carol muttered something into the seat cushions that sounded like, “not lookin’.”

Tony snorted -- anyone who was friends with Jan for any length of time had to give up their modesty or be in a constant state of embarrassment. (Bucky still clung to embarrassment, for the first little while, every time they saw Jan. It was adorable.) He dragged the bag over and rifled through it, pulling out fresh clothes. “You have to get off my lap for me to change pants,” he pointed out. She sat up readily and watched him intently as he shucked his comfortable, baggy jeans and pulled on the ones that Jan had dictated. He couldn’t really see much difference between the shirt he’d been wearing and the one Jan provided, but he didn’t dare say so. “There. Willing to be seen in public with me, now?”

Jan was leaning back against the cushions, admiring. “Yep. I love Hank, but… damn, Tony, you have the world’s best ass. Just…” She made a little squeezing motion with her hands and then ducked as Carol threw a stuffed bear at her.

“Don’ wanna hear about Tony’s butt, Jan. You promised.”

Jan’s conspiratorial voice was… not. But she did lean closer to Tony and say, “She’s just mad because she’s not getting any these days.”

“I find it pretty hard to believe that Carol couldn’t get some if she wanted it,” Tony observed.

“Quality ass, Tony,” Carol said. She gave up on the idea of sleeping and sat up. “There’s a distinct lack of it. And I’m not so lacking as to give it up with the men I serve with. They’re off limits.” She waved her hand around, dismissing them with a scoff. “You should have met the milksop my mother tried to set me up with recently. Ug.”

“Better your mother’s candidate than mine, I expect,” Tony said. “Mom used to want me to date _Jan_. Ug, it’d be like dating my sister.”

“Combining the empires,” Carol said sagely. She yawned again, running one hand through her blonde hair, making it stick up in all directions. She scowled when Jan dug into her purse for a hairbrush and handed it to Carol with an expectant look.

“I think Mom just wanted to get all the newest fashions first,” Tony said. He stuffed his discarded clothes into Jan’s bag and leaned back into his seat again, taking stock of the limo’s interior. “Rhodey’s going to shit a brick,” he predicted. “I don’t even know what Bruce will say.”

Jan looked around. “What? It’s _practical_ , Tony,” she said. “There’s five of us, and a lot of _booze_ and _stuff to do_. Much easier to let someone else drive, so we can just have fun.”

The stretch pulled up to the hotel and Jan hopped out when the driver opened the door. “Here,” she said, shoving a wrapped package at Tony. “It’s for your best man. Van Dyne original.”  

Tony exchanged a wry glance with Carol, and didn’t bother to get up, just watched through the tinted windows as Jan met Rhodey. Rhodey’s eyes went hilariously wide when he saw the limo, and Tony was still cackling when he climbed in.

“Well, this is an experience already,” Rhodey muttered, taking in the brilliant yellow crushed-velvet seats and crystal glasses on the well-stocked bar, even as he hugged Tony. “Hey, Tones. I see now why you said someone else was taking care of the bachelor party.”

Tony snorted. “Jan would’ve had my head if I’d let anyone else do it. Here,” he added, handing over the package. “That’s for you.”

Rhodey let Jan nudge him into a seat, opened his present, and put it on -- a watered-silk vest that even Tony had to admit did amazing things for his skin. While Jan fussed it into exactly the right position, he nodded to Carol. “Hi. Jim Rhodes,” he said, offering a hand.

“Carol Danvers,” she said, shaking. “My dad and Tony’s old man were friends. But it’s okay. Most of the time I like Tony anyway. College friend, right?”

Rhodey nodded. “We were roommates for a couple of years, before...”

Before Tony made one of the dumber mistakes of his life and dropped out of school, Tony finished mentally. “Carol’s in the Air Force, too,” he said, filling in the awkward silence. “You two can salute at each other or something.”

“I’m not in the Air Force today,” Carol said. “I’m _on leave_. And in Jan’s tender care, so you know… But you might know Dad, General Danvers.” She rolled her eyes expressively.

Jan poked her phone again. “Okay, last pickup. I’ve never met your friend Bruce,” she said. She banged on the window and leaned through the partition to talk to the driver, practically crawling over Carol in the process until Carol gave up and moved to a different bench. Carol poured herself a mimosa; mostly champagne and just enough orange juice to color it.

“I’m going to have to start drinking,” she said, then gestured with the bottle. “Anyone else?”

Tony considered it, then threw back the last of his coffee like it was medicine. “Yeah, I’m in. What about you, sugar blossom?”

“If I’m going to spend all day in this monstrosity, I’d better get started on the booze,” Rhodey agreed.

“Oh, my _god_ , Tony,” Jan said, sounding offended. “Where did you find this… fashion disaster?” She waved her cellphone at Tony, showing off a selfie of Bruce in front of his hotel, wearing one of his hideous purple shirts.

Tony laughed. “He’s a college professor, not a runway model,” he pointed out. “A scientist. Think of him as adorably rumpled, like Hank.”

Jan shrugged. “I’ll fix it. We have many adventures planned for today. Even Hank came ‘round to letting me dress him, eventually. Sometimes.” Jan settled into her seat again, pouting that the entire world hadn’t yet consented to let her play with them like enormous, mobile Barbies. She then turned a wide smile on Rhodey. “He looks put together, at least.”

High praise, from Jan. “Rhodey’s always been the best guy I know,” Tony agreed.

Rhodey brushed an invisible crease out of his new vest. “Didn’t know what to expect, so I just went with the smart-casual look,” he said. “Which turns out to have been a good idea. Speaking of which, what _are_ we doing?”

Carol groaned, poured herself another drink. “Being tortured.”

Jan found the bear that Carol had thrown earlier and pegged it back at her. “Spa day!” she said, excited. “Massages and pedicures and manicures and haircuts and new clothes and brunch and then dinner and clubbing and dancing and drinking, of course _drinking_. It’ll be _fun_ , Carol.”

Tony could _feel_ the dry, dubious look that Rhodey was shooting at him. He focused very carefully on not looking back, and instead poked at Jan. “You do know I’m not the _bride_ , right?”

Jan gave him a very flat-lipped scowl. “Just embrace the gay, Tony,” she said. “Besides, you always, _always_ have fun with me, right? I mean, tell me you didn’t spend our _entire lives_ humoring me, and that you do, actually love me, and we have had _so much fun_ together, because really, I don’t know that I can bear it if you tell me that we weren’t, absolutely, _the best_.” Her eyes were huge, eating up her face as she talked, waving her hands around and ending with a perfect puppy-face, hands on Tony’s knee.

Tony sighed, deeply. No one did guilt like Jan. “Of course I love you,” he told her, “and of course you’re always fun. I don’t have the patience to humor anyone, you know that.” He kissed her forehead. “That said, not a single person in this party is gay. Unless Carol’s been Not-Ask-Not-Telling us things.”

Carol stared into the bottom of her glass again. “Nope,” she said, popping the p with a little too much emphasis. “Still need a good man in my life.” She pulled out her phone, scrolled through it and then pointed it at the front of the funvee. A moment later, _Mighty Good Man_ by Salt ‘n Peppa came pouring out of the speakers.

Which meant by the time they got Bruce in the vehicle, Jan was going on a mile a minute, talking over the music and opening a second bottle of champagne.

“Well,” Bruce said, cleaning his glasses on the tail end of his shirt, looking rumpled and slump-shouldered as always. “This is… colorful.”

“Bruce!” Tony crowed, dragging him into an only slightly awkward hug. “Come on, get in! You’ll love it, it’s candyland! Rhodey, Bruce needs a mimosa right away!” He put his hands on Bruce’s shoulders. “Do you trust me?”

Bruce coughed. “When you say it like that, Tony, I feel like the answer should be an emphatic no. But, you’re the one getting married, so… yes. For today, I trust you.”

Tony grinned. He’d only had two mimosas, not even enough to be really tipsy yet, but it had been enough to let him just relax into the momentum that was Jan. “Then listen: whatever Jan tells you to do, you do. She’s usually right. Embrace the absurd!”

Bruce made a noncommittal sort of noise, then rolled his eyes. “All right, Tony,” he said, finally. He poked his phone and a moment later, Jan’s chimed. “That’s my girlfriend’s number. Betty made me promise if we did anything really awful, she needed to have blackmail material, after I stopped to take photographs when she blew up her lab.”

Bruce took a glass of champagne and made a general toasting, then proceeded to tell Tony in detail about the lab explosion, which had ended up with green slime dripping everywhere -- Betty’s research being primarily involved with edible algaes -- and then scrolled through his phone to show off the picture of Betty wearing slime from pretty much her hair to her shoes, round, angry eyes bright behind her goggles.

When they got to the spa, Rhodey was still dubious. “That’s okay, platypus,” Tony said, putting on patronizing airs. “You can wait for us here in the Hum-drum-vee.” Rhodey rolled his eyes but grudgingly climbed out of the limo to join them.

Bruce, surprisingly, was very enthusiastic. He opted eagerly for the mudbath, chattering to anyone who would listen about the algae that gave the mud its restorative properties and the biochemical properties of the various aromatic oils available for massage therapy.

Tony hadn’t been to many spas, but he let Jan tell him what to do -- it seemed to be working out for him, today -- and got a haircut, a manicure, and some kind of skin treatment followed by a long massage. He all but turned into a puddle in the sauna and goaded Rhodey into an exchange of suggestive comments about “facials” and “protein supplements.” A late lunch was served, with cocktails, because of course, and he lounged decadently to watch while Jan, Carol, and -- surprisingly -- Rhodey got pedicures.

Rather than go plain or opt for a manly clear polish, Rhodey let Carol talk him into a gaudy patriotic paint job on his toenails. He glared at Tony the whole time, daring Tony to mock him. “I’ll have socks and shoes on for the rest of the weekend; no one’s gonna know but you guys,” he reasoned.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night, honeybear,” Tony said. “It’s okay, we’re _embracing the gay_ today, remember?”

“You do that, Tones,” Rhodey said. “I’mma enjoy sitting here with beautiful women on either side of me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS is Jan’s limo: [[pic1](http://www.cepolina.com/photo/transport/car/Hummer/b/Hummer-limo-yellow.jpg)] [[pic2](http://www.cepolina.com/photo/transport/car/Hummer/b/Hummer-limo-yellow-inside.jpg)]  
> Because Jan.
> 
> (Also, mentions of the funvee and Hum-drum-vee are _not_ precursors to disaster; we just couldn't have a Humvee limo and _not_ use the references!)


	4. Chapter 4

Steve had made jokes about strippers, but the strip clubs in Virginia were tops-off only, which meant _women_ , and Bucky had just rolled his eyes. There were a couple of really filthy, explicit clubs down in South Carolina, but if Tony wasn’t allowed to go out of state, neither was Bucky. Not to mention Nat had gotten a dangerous gleam in her eyes when Steve had mentioned male strippers, and Bucky wasn’t even sure whether Steve shut the plan down out of fear or jealousy.

As it was, Bucky didn’t really care. He was going to marry _Tony Stark_ in less than twenty-eight hours, and if he never saw another naked man in his life, he wasn’t going to miss it. Tony was, by far, the best thing that had ever happened to Bucky, and it happened that all of his friends agreed with him. He wasn’t mourning his bachelorhood, he was celebrating his upcoming nuptials.

The second time Bucky woke up it was to an empty bed. Tony’s side of the bed was rumpled and dented, but the sheets were cool. He’d been gone some time, apparently. Bucky managed to get an eye open. It’d been quite a long time since he’d slept later than eight, but it was almost eleven now.

He got up, showered and dressed. Discovered that Nat had been there and left again without waking him when he found two bouquets on the table. White lilies. They were labeled.

“For your mother.”

“For the tree.”

Bucky couldn’t help a small smile. Nat still knew him better than anyone. He tucked the larger bundle of flowers under his arm and headed out to the cemetery. The Barnes plot was in the back, near the northeast corner, shaded by an enormous magnolia. Bucky took a few minutes to gather up the fallen leaves -- magnolia leaves were huge and difficult to rake up -- from the tops of the graves. Said hello to his grandparents’ graves, as well as his father’s brother who’d died in a car crash when Bucky was three. Then he sat between the headstones where his parents were buried.

Arranged the lilies across the head of Winifred’s plot.

It was nice to sit there and not feel so much like a disappointment as he’d done when she’d first passed. Bucky had gotten his life together, was making something of himself. Winnie probably would have approved of his choices.

“You’d like him, Ma,” Bucky said, finally. He ran his fingers over the smooth, cold marble. “He’s the most amazing man. Pretty, that’s the first thing you’d see, when you look at him. Pretty enough to take your breath away. But it’s more than that, he’s more than that. He’s _incredible_. Smart an’ strong an’ brave. Braver than anything I’ve ever done. He’s got grit. It’s… it’s just so easy for me to be happy when he’s around. I hope… I know. I know that you’d be proud of me. Love you, Ma. Wish you could be here.”

Bucky sat for a while longer. He’d always thought it would be nice if he could have felt a little connected here, that he wasn’t just talking to empty air, that he could feel like his parents… were aware. Maybe they had other things to do -- who was he to say what was going on in the afterlife? He laughed at himself a little, then took two of the lilies from her bouquet and laid them over Big Jim’s stone.

He stood up and brushed dirt and grass off his jeans.

By the time he got back to Dockside, the crew had gathered. Steve and Nat and Wanda and Sam were playing an impromptu game of beach volleyball when he got there, their voices loud against the ocean and the mostly empty beach. Bucky kicked off his shoes and ran down to join them, getting protests from Sam for spiking the ball.

Despite that, Wanda was a talented player, having some sort of mental connection with the aging ball, and even three to two, she and Sam clobbered them.

“Come now,” Nat said, shaking sand out of her shirt. “We are going to have ice cream.”

Because of course they were. Nat was rarely involved in planning anything that didn’t have ice cream as a major component. To his surprise, however, she didn’t lead them off toward the thirty-one flavors down the street, instead shooing them into Sam’s truck.

“You sit back here with us,” she said, shoving Bucky into the middle of the back seat. “And Sam will drive, so that you can --”

“No backseat drivin’,” Sam said, shaking a finger. “I ain’t puttin’ up with that from you, not today.”

Wanda slid in on Bucky’s other side. “We’ll keep him occupied,” she promised Sam. “We’re going to play Stupid Car Games!” She said it with entirely too much enthusiasm.

Steve climbed into the front passenger seat. “What, like I Spy?”

“Yes!” Wanda enthused. “And the license plate game!”

“Are you sure you wanna play I Spy with Nat?” Bucky’s eyebrow went way, way up. Nat was the most observant, detail-oriented person that Bucky knew. “Are we playin’ for points or penalties?”

Natasha held up a flask that Bucky recognized all too well. “Penalties,” she said, smirking. “Except for Sam, because he is driving. He will take his shots after we are home again, yes? Yes.”

“Uh, no,” Sam said, starting the truck. “Sam agreed to be the driver on the condition that he does not have to compete with Nat’s crazy metabolism.”

Steve clicked his seatbelt and grinned at his wife. “Don’t be a wuss, Sam,” Steve said. “She’s _tiny_. You’ll be fine.”

Wanda bounced in her seat, waving both hands around like a crazy person. “Okay, okay, okay, I go first. I spy… something… yellow.”

Nat rubbed at her chin, wisely, then said, “It is Sam, because he is a coward.”

Wanda laughed. “You’re right. Nat’s the Spy now!” She took the flask and swigged.

Steve groaned, patting Sam’s arm. “You asked for it.”

“I spy… something with feathers,” Nat said.

Bucky shook his head. “It’s Sam. Because he’s a chicken.”

“Man, y’all shut the hell up,” Sam spluttered. “Don’ make me turn this truck around.”

Bucky kicked the back of Sam’s seat and cursed. He didn’t usually ride in the back of his truck. “Can you move your seat up?”

“No,” Sam said shortly. “Not after all that.”

“Okay, okay, no seriously,” Wanda said. She looked around again, carefully, then said, “I spy… something that is blue.”

And then the game was on for real.

By the time they got to Williamsburg, Wanda was tipsy enough to be in a state of constant giggles, and Bucky was starting to feel the warmth. He wasn’t sure about Steve -- Steve drunk was pretty similar to Steve sober, except a little more reckless, slightly louder, and less shy about staring adoringly at his wife. Nat, of course, had taken several swigs and was utterly unaffected.

For October, it was getting nice and crisp, the breeze smelling like apples and woodsmoke. Sam ended up carrying Wanda piggyback because the uneven brick sidewalks kept catching her toes and after the third time she almost went face down, it just seemed safer. They got to the green and Nat pushed the flowers and a bottle of water on Bucky.

“You know the tree doesn’t gran-- doesn’t grant wishes, right?” Wanda said, hiccuping. She used her boosted position on Sam’s back to climb into the lower limbs.

Bucky unscrewed the cap on the water bottle, raised the plastic to the tree. He took a sip, then watered the dusty roots. “Hey,” he said, laying his hand on the bark for a moment, then jumped, yanking himself into the branches. The bouquet was fragrant and a little crushed from where he’d stuck it into his belt to hold it while he climbed.

“Wow,” Sam said, squinting from the ground. “Look at him go.”

Bucky was about halfway up before he stopped, resting his back on the same cluster of branches where his mom had given him her lecture about fear, so many years ago. He settled in, straddling the branch and leaning against the trunk. A moment later, the branches shifted as Nat pulled herself up to join him.

“Do not fall,” she told him. “Tony would be very angry if you had a cast at the wedding. Jan would be more mad to have to split the sleeve of your tux.”

“Ain’t plannin’ on falling today,” Bucky said. “This tree’s had its fair share of my blood before. I don’t think it needs another taste, just yet.” He pulled the flowers out of the bouquet and arranged them carefully in one of the forks, the white flowers leaving a smear of yellow pollen across his shirt.

From the startled shriek below, followed by Sam swearing and then Steve laughing, Bucky said, “Think it’s more Wanda you need t’ worry about today. Lord, that girl’s a lightweight.” He patted the tree again, then leaned over and kissed Nat’s cheek. “Thank you.”

She sighed. “You are going to be sappy and sincere again,” she accused. “We did this already, when Steve and I were married. It is only a year. Too soon for more.”

“Your fault,” Bucky reminded her. “I’d have stuck to my rules, if you hadn’t been all pushin’ everyone. So, you only have yourself to blame.” That was a bald-faced lie, Bucky knew. He’d been hip-deep in love with Tony before the man had been with the Dockside crew for a month; it might have taken longer if Nat hadn’t been pointing out to them that they were being idiots of the first water, but Bucky had no doubt that they would have eventually worked it out.

The thought that they might not have -- that Tony might have moved on, or found someone else -- that wasn’t even a thought worth considering. Bucky glanced at his left hand; Tony’d gotten him a matching ring when they’d decided when the wedding was going to be held. A gold and sapphire promise. Bucky patted the tree again and started the climb down.

“Come on, matchmaker,” Bucky said. “Let’s get _Wanda_ out of the tree before she hurts herself.”  

Nat caught his hand before he could go further. “We are happy for you, Bucky. Me and Steve.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said again, blinking rapidly. Nat was so very seldom sentimental. “I… Tony’s a miracle, and I’m really happy. Gonna spend the rest of my life makin’ sure _he’s_ happy.” He squeezed her fingers and then started down the tree.

“Oh, hell’s bells,” he commented, near to the ground. Steve was hanging upside down from a branch, most of his rather impressive abs on display as his shirt had slid down. “You better come get your man, before some tourist decides he’s part of the exhibit.”

Nat recited the recipe for blini as she climbed down after him. “Steven, you are stopping this at once! I want ice cream, and I am not putting it off to take your cracked skull to the hospital!”

“You’re _sure_ you wanna get married, Buck?” Steve said, flipping down out of the tree and landing on the dusty ground. “‘Cause you know, less’n an hour south, I could have you in North Carolina before anyone even knew you were missing.”

“Pretty sure,” Bucky called out. “But ask me again after ice-cream.”

Nat smacked Steve on the arm. “Why would you offer this? You love being married to me,” she told him.

Steve laughed, wrapped his arms around Nat’s waist and spun her around in a circle. “Yeah, well, he’s not marrying _you_ , now is he? And there’s no one as perfect as you are, Natasha.” Steve set her down and kissed the pout right off her face until she was clinging to him with both arms.

Bucky grinned and found himself remembering a few years back, when he was desperately jealous of them. “So… so very not smooth,” he said.

***

“Oh my lord,” Sam said.

The little parlor-sized Ben & Jerry’s was all but abandoned; October, even in Virginia, was not exactly ice cream weather. It was nice enough, though, and there were a few tables outside where they could catch some of the afternoon sun.

The waitress brought out Nat’s order; she’d been downright mysterious about it and refused to tell anyone what she’d done. The waitress set down a shallow bowl in the center of the table, somewhat larger than a pizza pan and about four inches deep. The blue-glazed dish was piled high with ice cream, covered with nuts and cherries, and drowning in whipped cream and caramel syrup.

“Vermonster,” Nat announced. “Twenty scoops.” She wielded her spoon like a sword.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bucky said, before she started in on the dessert. “Can you…” He handed his phone to the server. “Can you take a picture, first? My fiancé really, _really_ needs to see this.” He gathered everyone on the far side of the table so she could get them all in the photo.

Nat had already finished her first scoop in the time it took Bucky to get back in his seat and text the picture to Tony.

_You think this mite b enuf ice cream for Nat?_

He wasn’t sure if Jan had confiscated his phone, or what they had planned, but he hoped someone was taking pictures for later. Bucky grabbed his spoon and dug in.  

New text from Tony:  
 _No such thing. Jan sez if you get 2 fat 4 her tux she’ll murdr u. ::eyeroll emoji:: ::heart emoji::_

_Its Nat. U think im getting that much? Miss u alrdy ::heart emoji::_

Nat flicked a cherry at him, using her spoon as a catapult. “No texting,” she said. “You will be married soon enough. You pay attention to us, now.” She was lining up cherry stems on the side of the bowl.

Bucky rolled his eyes, and when Nat wasn’t looking directly at him, he leaned over and wiped a fingerful of whip-cream down the side of her face. Which was hilarious, especially when Steve leaned over to lick it off and she looked vaguely disgusted. Wanda practically crawled under the table, laughing at them.

“Here,” Nat said, shoving the cluster of stems at Bucky. “There are ten here. Let us see how many you can do.”

“Christ, really?” Bucky asked, staring at her. “This is a bar trick. I’m s’posed to get free booze doin’ this.”

“And so you shall,” Nat said. “One drink for every stem you can do. You will show us this trick, yes?”

“Oh, for…” On the other hand, if he had his mouth full of cherry stems, he wouldn’t get in trouble with Jan for eating too much ice-cream. “Four’s my current record.”

Steve leaned over. “You might wanna cover Wanda’s eyes,” he advised Sam seriously, “or risk losing her forever.”

Bucky started with three stems, flicking the long end of one against his teeth and bending it. The last time he’d done more than three, he’d cheated a little bit, storing the completed chain in the side of his cheek like it was a wad of snuff, and that seemed to work again.

His mouth got a little crowded and it was hard to sort the stems after six, but he managed one more before he lost the end of the chain and couldn’t figure out where it was. Finally, he spit the whole mess out and counted.

“ _Seven_ ,” he said. Bucky stretched it out on a napkin so they could all see.

“Oh my god,” Wanda said, eyes wide. “How does Tony even _walk_?”

“Sometimes he doesn’t,” Steve confided. “Buck thinks he’s being subtle with the whole _sent Tony into town to run errands_ line, but I know.”

Nat pulled out her phone and took a picture.

Sam stared at the little chain of cherry stems, then back at Bucky, then back down. “There is somethin’ really, really wrong with you, man,” he said. “I mean… how…”

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Steve said, slinging an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “I got about half-hard the first time I saw him do that, too. It’ll be fine. You’re still straight.”

“Well, I’m not,” Wanda declared. “Oh, my god. Like. OH. My. _God_.”

New text from Tony:  
 _jan and crl v imprssd. ::heart eyes emoji:: also meeeee ::eggplant emoji::_

_Mit hv spraind my tongue bleh. Out of practice._

New text from Tony:   
_feel free to prctc on me netime!!! ::wink emoji:: ::eggplant emoji::_

_U. Me. Boat. 3 weeks. ::peach emoji::_

New text from Jan:   
_I’m confiscating Tony’s phone, you can talk to him tomorrow! ::yellow heart emoji::_

New text from Jan:  
 _But you’re totally teaching me how to do that!_

“Where did you --” Sam spluttered. “ _How?_  Who the… How did you decide that this was a good use of your time, man?”

Wanda was still staring at the chain. “No, no, I think this was an _excellent_ use of his time.”

Steve sighed and patted Sam’s back consolingly. “I told you...”

To almost no one’s shock, except maybe the server’s, Nat was scraping the bottom of the bowl with her spoon and barely a speck of ice-cream was left in the dish when they turned it back in.  

***

They didn’t get back to Sandbridge until nearly midnight, by which point they were all (except Sam) more than a little tipsy. (Bucky suspected Nat of refilling her flask when no one was looking, which she hotly denied, but the damn thing never seemed to empty.)

Once the driving portion of the evening was done, even Sam started taking nips from Nat’s flask, and it was universally decided that they needed to round out the evening with a walk on the beach. It wasn’t warm enough for swimming (and swimming drunk was a bad idea anyway, especially at night), but they rolled up their pants legs and waded along the waterline.

Nat and Wanda were playing some sort of kicking splashing game with Sam as a loudly protesting center ground when Steve threw an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and leaned into him heavily. “Y’have a good time, Buck?”

“Lookin’ forward to tomorrow,” Bucky said. He squinted up at the sky, but if he’d ever learned to tell time by where the moon was -- he vaguely remembered lessons from a boy scout leader at one point -- he was too drunk to figure out where the right stars were. “Is it tomorrow yet? Anyway. Yeah. Yeah. Las’... las’ night as a single man. Heh. How ‘bout that, pal? You ever think that would happen, for me? Tyin’ the knot and all that. I didn’t…”

Steve shook his head. “Kinda hoped you wouldn’t, for a while... Some’a the guys you’ve dated were... not good guys.”

Bucky waved a hand around aimlessly. “Tony makes up for’t,” Bucky said. “Never wanted… never wanted anything… not like Tony.” The water was cold around his calves and his feet sank into the sand with every wave. The ocean was like that, always wanting to pull a body in. “Like you an’ Nat. You jus’... _knew_. Right? I knew. Leastways. Watchin’ you fall on your face over her. Took me a while to see Tony right _there_ in front of me. You know… I never did. Never did thank you, for bringin’ him back, that time. Dunno what you said t’ him, but…”

“Didn’ say nothin’ that wasn’t the truth,” Steve said. “He was... God, Buck, I ain’t never seen anyone look so... scared and lost and hurt and _determined_. Couldn’t lay guilt or trick him or... or anything but the plain truth, y’know? So I told him. ‘Bout Rumlow an’ that kid and what you did and why. An’ I told him if he still wanted to go, I’d take him wherever he wanted. Buy him a ticket, whatever. His choice. Had t’be, or it wouldn’ta been worth anything. _He_ chose to come back. To you.”

For a few, terrible minutes, Bucky contemplated what would have happened if Steve hadn’t told Tony the truth, hadn’t found him, hadn’t… a huge, _empty_ hole in his life where Tony should have been. If he’d lost Tony… for that matter, if Tony had lost _him_. The man had been drifting, homeless… it was good. They’d come together at the right time, and Bucky was going to do everything he could to make sure it worked out.

_He chose to come back. To me._ Bucky spared a brief prayer of gratitude that he’d been worth coming back to.

He bounced up onto his toes and ran a hand through Steve’s hair, prickly and short and tacky with product, making it stick up in all directions. “Still,” he said. “Thank you. An’ you know, for everything else. Bein’ my friend and my brother an’ all your support. Til the end of the line, right, pal?”

“‘Til the end of the line, you jerk,” Steve agreed, and tugged Bucky into a hug that was just a little too tight. “I’m so happy for you. You an’ Tony are... perfect together.”

“We’re pretty awesome,” Bucky said. A dark shape was creeping up behind Steve as Bucky ducked out from under his arm. “Not… quite as good as you an’ Nat, but pretty awesome.” He took a couple of quick steps out of range.

Having drenched Sam beyond all hope, Nat and Wanda were stealing up behind Steve, giggles mostly masked by the sound of the surf.

Oblivious, Steve grinned goofily. “Yeah, Nat’s pretty-- Awwwwwkkkkk!!!!” The girls dumped a -- where did they get a whole _bucket?_ \-- of seawater over his head.

Deciding that discretion was _not_ the better part of valor, and if he was probably going to get soaked anyway, he was going to freakin’ deserve it, Bucky grabbed a double handful of Wanda, dragged her about thigh deep into the surf, kicking and screaming over his shoulder, and dropped her.

Wanda shrieked, laughing, and tried to drag him after her. Of course, since she weighed maybe two thirds what Bucky weighed, she didn’t do much but make him stagger a little.

Bucky was just giving voice to a particularly loud warwhoop when Sam, having liberated the bucket, poured half a gallon of icy seawater down the back of Bucky’s pants. And then it was war. All out, no holds barred, give me liberty or give me death, _war_.

By the time they staggered back to Dockside, They were all dripping wet and freezing, spotted with tangles of seaweed, and Wanda had actually plucked a hermit crab out of her hair.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said, getting his phone and wallet out of the truck. “Picture first, then ever’one can borrow my showers before they go home.” It had been the habit for so long for people to get cleaned up in his place, Bucky had tons of towels and at least one or two sets of clothes that belonged to, or fit, just about everyone. They crowded close to the Dockside’s door, where the best light was, and Bucky snapped off a few group selfies to text to Tony.

He stripped down to his shorts and wrapped up in a towel while the two couples borrowed his showers.

Bucky scrolled through the texts Tony’d sent him from wherever the hell they were after he’d stolen his phone back from Jan. Somewhere with karaoke and dancing, as most of the pics were slightly blurry candids. Tony dancing with his friends -- or trying. Bucky’d never seen someone so determined to stay on a barstool as Banner, clinging to the cushion with one hand as Tony tried to drag him onto the dance floor. Carol cheering on Tony and Rhodes as the two of them busted out a move. Bucky smiled.

_Miss u. Headed to bed. C U @ the church tmrw_

 


	5. Chapter 5

Sometimes it was surprising, just how many friends they had. Never more noticeable than when Bucky got them all together in one relatively small location. Dockside’s staff, who were more family than co-workers; Riri and her mom; the crowd of friends Bucky had picked up in college and who now mostly lived in Ghent; some of the kids from the S-bend who surfed with them. And then there were all of Tony’s friends from New York and college, more than he would have thought he had, a few years back when he’d arrived in Dockside with nothing but a backpack and a bad situation. Obadiah Stane and his son had, thankfully, sent their regrets. (Tony hadn’t even wanted to invite them, but Maria had put her foot down.)

Thor was there, mostly because his father owned the Valhalla and there was free food and good beer to be had than because he had any particular interest in the “ceremonies and trappings of heteronormative white culture,” as he’d put it. And Thor’s brother Loki, because wherever Thor was, his brother tended to be just a little behind and to the left. Jan, who befriended everyone. Loudly. Tony’s friend, Jim Rhodes, who’d become completely enamored with Tony’s other friend, Carol. Or, at least, they were swapping Air Force stories and spending a lot of time staring meaningfully into each other’s eyes. It was cute.

The reception spread was a buffet style, and people sat wherever they wanted -- Bucky never did like that weird tradition of forced mingling. He wasn’t sure what food he actually put on his plate, though, being entirely too wrapped up in staring at Tony. Jan was some sort of fucking miracle worker, because Tony was always gorgeous, always perfect, but somehow, she’d done something with the lines of his tux that propelled him all the way to immortal glory.

Or maybe it was just that Tony was now Bucky’s _husband_ and that made all the difference. His partner, his mate, his match, out proud, where anyone could see it. Bucky kept being distracted by the rings, too, the one that glittered on his finger, as well as the one that Tony wore.

He probably was distracted enough to put his elbow right in the middle of his plate, if Nat hadn’t been sort of prodding him along through the whole thing. But they were finally sitting down and eating.

Tony glanced up and caught him looking. Tony smiled, and Bucky felt heat rise in his face and neck. Tony smiled even wider at that, and then there was noise, _cling-clang-ting_ \-- people tapping their glasses with the silver and Tony laughed and leaned in for a kiss, to much applause. “Love you.”

“Well, that’s good,” Bucky said. He pulled back reluctantly, leaving his hand encircling Tony’s wrist. “Little late for you to back out now.” Camera flashes speckled the side of his vision and he blinked a few times. Tony was surrounded by swirling stars of black as Bucky tried to get his eyes to adjust. “Married. Wow.”

“Stuck with me now,” Tony agreed, and his eyes were warm and happy. “Sure we can’t ditch the party and head straight for the honeymoon?”

“If we don’t eat something, I’ll pass out and you’ll be grouchy, which doesn’t seem like the best way to start a three week cruise, but sure, if you want,” Bucky said. He managed to get a bite in, chew and swallow, before returning to his blissful state of staring at his _husband_. He was pretty sure he was never going to get tired of that word. Ever.

Then people started coming over to talk to them, and there was barely time to snatch bites between shaking hands and accepting hugs and saying the same things over and over until they stopped sounding like actual words, no matter how true they were. “So glad you could make it... Happiest I’ve ever been.”

Which dissolved into staring across the room at his sister. Becca had been… less than gracious about the settlement, but had accepted it, and decided to stay for the wedding, so maybe… maybe they could be family.

Except she was talking, somewhat angrily, with someone Bucky couldn’t imagine that she knew. “Why the hell is Bex arguing with Loki Odinson?” Bucky said out of the corner of his mouth. Not like Tony would know, but Bucky had to say something, if only so that Tony could tell him he was drunk on wedding punch and happiness or… something equally improbable.

Tony glanced up from where he was complimenting Jan’s dress and followed Bucky’s gaze across the room. He snorted. “Okay, to be fair, _everyone_ argues with Loki, usually within five minutes of the start of the conversation. More power to her; they deserve each other.”

Jan leaned around Tony’s elbow to see who he was talking about. “Oh, _that’s_ your infamous Loki? He’s... very pretty.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “No, Jan. Trust me. Just... No.”

Jan laughed, light and easy. “Oh, why not? Come on, introduce me to him, he’s gorgeous. And maybe a little less shy than Bucky.” She winked and mouthed _underwear model_ at Bucky, who blushed as if on cue. How the hell did she do that? He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, you go on, honey,” Bucky said. “Loki and I… not so much with the getting along. Besides, Mrs. Danvers is waiting a turn to speak with us and it’ll get you out of cheek-grabbing range.”

Tony cast a furtive glance at the approaching Mrs. Danvers. “Oh, god, yes, I’ll take your sister and Loki over having my face re-arranged any day.” He laid a brief kiss on Bucky’s cheek and tucked his arm through Jan’s, quickly leading her away.

Bucky wasn’t always sure how he managed it but all the old tabbies from Maria Stark’s social circle had practically doted on him the moment they met. Mrs. Danvers was no exception. It might have had something to do with southern manners; older ladies were charmed when he did things like pulled their chair out, or stood up to greet them. The sorts of things his Ma would have clocked him over the head for not doing. Whatever it was, Bucky wasn’t slow to take advantage of it.

“Mrs. Danvers,” he said, looking just over her shoulder at Tony’s departing back (and maybe, more importantly, his departing backside) and then smiled at her, all attention. “So glad you could make it. I’ve missed your sparkling conversation.”

***

Loki spotted them coming, so by the time Tony and Jan got close enough to overhear anything, the argument between him and Becca had stopped. Tony blamed Jan’s bright yellow dress, which was stunning, and not at all subtle.

“Becca, Loki,” Tony greeted them. “Enjoying the reception, I hope?”

Loki did not _actually_ roll his eyes, but he gave Tony a look that said he might have, if he’d thought Tony was important enough to expend the effort on. “I’m _working_ , Stark.”

Tony hummed noncommittally; Loki hadn’t so much as handed someone else a champagne goblet all evening. “Stark-Barnes, now,” he pointed out. “I have a friend who wanted to meet you. Jan, this is Loki Odinson. Loki, Janet Van Dyne.” Because the Odinsons were wealthy enough to actually stay abreast of high fashion, he added, “Yes, _that_ Van Dyne, so behave yourself.”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “I mind my manners in a fashion appropriate to the company in which I find myself,” he said, then gave Jan an almost formal bow and took her hand. “And right now, I find myself delighted to meet you. Would you care to take a turn with me? I’d love to hear your views on some of the guests’ clothing choices.”

Jan accepted, sticking her tongue out at Tony as she let Loki lead her toward the dance floor. Tony just shrugged. She’d figure Loki out before the song ended, he was certain. Jan was too smart to let someone like Loki fool her for long.

Of course, that left him standing with his new sister-in-law. Shit.

Becca cupped her elbows with her hands, almost rocking back and forth like she was cradling a baby. “I can’t decide if I want to kiss you or kill you for that.”

Tony cocked his head. “Well, I could understand a certain gratitude for freeing you from Loki’s company,” he said. “Not sure why you’d be upset about it. Though I suppose he’s still pretty even when he’s being a complete bastard.”

Tony’d seen rather a lot of his sister-in-law recently, even given the amount of jerking-her-around that they’d engaged in. He’d seen her smug, seen her furious, seen her when she was almost happy. But she glanced at him and he saw something new. Self-loathing, fear, anger. “You ever want something you shouldn’t? Even when you knew better?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Tony said. Becca and... Loki? There was a mental image he couldn’t reconcile. On the other hand, as he’d said to Bucky, they probably deserved each other. “The guy I dated before Bucky was a beautiful bastard.”

Becca winced. “Well, I suppose bad decision making isn’t unique. Or even very interesting. I think I’ve said something about all the bad shit in my life coming directly from Virginia Beach.” She snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed it in a single pull. She eyed Tony over the rim for a long moment. “Did you come over here to rescue me, or him?”  

“Neither, really,” Tony admitted. “Jan really did want to meet him. And I needed to duck a friend of my mother’s who thinks I’m still six and subject to cheek-pinching.” He watched the dancing for a moment. “Your brother saved my life, you know. I mean that entirely literally. I owe him... everything. And Bucky... has strong feelings about family.” Tony looked at Becca. “Is there any way at all you’d let him meet his niece?”

Becca sighed, looked around. Jan and Loki were dancing together, looking somewhat like a leprechaun and a gold pot, him in green and her in yellow. Despite that, they were both astonishingly pretty, in the moment. “Dance with me?” Becca offered, and it sounded almost like the gambit for a truce. “I haven’t been dancing since before Billie was born.”

“Of course.” Tony offered his hand, and when she took it, drew her onto the dance floor. She was a good dancer -- stiffer than Bucky, but that might have as much to do with the company as her skill. Tony had to concentrate for a moment on remembering how to lead; usually that was Bucky’s part, since Tony was shorter. Once he’d clicked back into the correct mindset he re-focused on Becca’s face. She really was lovely, when she wasn’t being petty and malicious. “You’re quite good,” he offered.

“Thank you,” she said. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything else, then offered, “And you kept me from making a big mistake, intentional or otherwise, so… I owe you one.”

Oh, she’d finally figured out that trying to take on Tony’s law team was a mistake, had she? He smiled. “You’re welcome. And then we’re back to my previous question. You don’t have to answer now; I’ll give you my number and you can tell me your terms when you’ve thought it over. We can come to Atlanta -- there’s an airport and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess. Come for Christmas. It always… always seems silly, to do all that work, just for me an’ her. But I can’t not. She expects it, you know. Presents and Santa Claus and trees. She’s only five, she doesn’t understand things like fifty-hour work weeks. My best friend, sometimes, if she’s not working, comes over. But it might be nice to have a few more people at the table. We can try. If I don’t have to come back _here_.”

Tony nodded. That was... that was far more than he’d expected, actually. God, Bucky would be so damn _happy_... “Okay,” he said. “We’ll do that. It won’t even be a long visit -- you know how he is about wanting to keep his hands on, with the restaurant. Or maybe you don’t, but he does. For family, I could talk him into taking time off, but probably not more than a few days. So that makes for a good trial run.”

“He never saw in it what I see,” Becca said, a little bitter. “Ma loved that place. _Loved_ it. You understand that? You know what that meant? She loved it more than me. More than him. More than _anything_ else. It was a place. It was a _thing_. And she cared more about a pile of wood and glass than she ever did about her kids. Not like I love Billie. Not like you love Jimmy.”

Tony thought about Howard, his obsession with making sure Tony was a suitable heir to Stark Industries, not caring at all to discover whether Tony _wanted_ the company. And he already knew how much work and time it took, to run Dockside. “I... know a little of what that’s like,” he said. “I don’t... Bucky doesn’t remember it that way, and I wouldn’t want to tarnish his memory, even if yours is more accurate. But if that’s how you remember it, how you feel... Okay. I get that.”

“Well, he was just a kid when I left,” Becca said. “Maybe she changed. I don’t know. Jimm-- sorry, damn that’s hard to get used to. He’s always been Jimmy, to me.” She straightened up a bit as the song came to an end. “Look, maybe you’re right, okay. Bucky’s not Ma, and I shouldn’t let my problems with Ma spill over. I’ll try, okay?” She did another scan of the room and seemed to relax as she found Jan, this time with her own fiancé. “God, I’m stupid.”

“Well, we’re all a little dumb from time to time,” Tony said. He kept hold of her hand as they left the floor, before she could turn away. “Becca. Thank you.”

Mrs. Danvers was gone -- thank god -- by the time Tony made it back to Bucky’s side. Bucky stood and came ‘round the table, hugged him, and then turned Tony all the way around, as if inspecting him. “So, where’d she stab you? Are you bleeding? Do you need a doctor?” He was joking, but at the same time his stormcloud eyes were a little concerned.

Tony put his hand over his heart. “Right here,” he said, “but not quite the way you’re thinking.” He tugged Bucky in for a kiss. “How much do you love me?”

“There’s not a measurement big enough in the universe,” Bucky said. He teased at Tony’s mouth light, with his tongue, tasting of champagne and those little sandwiches that had been piled high on a crystal plate.

“Good,” Tony said. He kissed lightly along Bucky’s jaw to whisper, “We’re going to Atlanta for Christmas.”

“Oh god,” Bucky said. “You… holy shit, how did you… you brilliant, beautiful, silver-tongued…” Bucky stammered for a moment, then lifted Tony up and spun him around like a kid in the park, kissing him the whole time. “ _God_ , I love you.”

Tony laughed, kissing him back and enjoying the whoops and catcalls of their gathered friends at the display. “I know,” he said.

“I am going to kiss you stupid,” Bucky promised, setting him back down.

“No, you are not,” Nat interrupted. She held a rather awkward, large, silver serving blade in one hand. “I have been waiting, very patiently, for cake. So, you will cut it now, and then you may kiss Antonishka as stupid as you would like.”

“I’m a genius, you know,” Tony told Nat as they followed Bucky toward the cake. “It takes a _lot_ of kissing to knock me all the way down to stupid.”

“I believe that Bucky will soldier on and get the job done,” she said, droll and dry, as if she was discussing a pile of dishes to be washed. “You will thank me for it, later.” Tony wasn’t entirely sure he followed the logic of Nat being responsible for Bucky kissing him, but he’d learned better than to argue with her.

Bucky stumbled to a halt and Tony nearly ran into him. “What...”

It wasn’t that large a wedding, but they’d still insisted on three tiers of cake: one chocolate, one lemon, and one boring white for Maria and her crowd. But as they got closer to the table, there was more there than just the cake and the stacks of serving plates -- there were dozens and dozens of tiny crystal goblets, stacked in tiers, filled with... ice cream?

“Well, clearly we won’t be having any ice cream emergencies tonight,” Steve observed, coming up from the other side. “Ohh, look, butter pecan.”

“Do you like it? The surprise?”

Bucky put one arm around Nat and kissed her cheek. “You don’t fool me,” he said. “But I love you anyway. Ice cream, right? The solution to _everything_ _else_.” Bucky took the fancy serving knife from her and then offered it to Tony over his arm like a knight. “You start, I’ll get behind you. My arms are longer.”

Tony took the knife with a smile and situated himself in front of the cake, then sighed and paused while he waited for all the guests to cluster around and prepare their cameras. At least he had Bucky at his back, pressing against him, their arms lined together and Bucky’s hand warm against his on the handle of the knife.

Bucky’s thigh slid between Tony’s, nudging gently. Tony had to stifle a jump and then a moan, when Bucky wriggled against him. “Sorry,” Bucky said innocently, “just trying to reach.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony said. He tipped his head back and to the side to give Bucky a look. “You are a very bad man.”

“A very bad man,” Bucky said, soft, in his ear. “Who wants, very badly, to take you somewhere private and get that tux off you. Hmmm.” Bucky kissed the side of his neck, then smiled for a camera. “Cut the cake, babydoll.”

Cake. Right. Guests and cameras. Definitely not a good time to push Bucky up against the wall and go down on him. Tony took a breath and pasted on his camera smile. “Everyone ready?” he asked the cameras, and lined up the knife, Bucky’s hand still on his.

Bucky wiggled, just a little, against Tony’s back. “Very ready.”

_Hnnnng_. God. His husband was a _menace_ , and Tony loved it.

They cut through the cake, removing a good sized slice of lemon and dropping it onto a plate. They took turns smushing cake in each other’s faces. Bucky licked Tony’s cheek and chin clean, setting off a whole other series of whoops and catcalls and camera flashes.

Then they could step back and let the caterers take over the rest of the slicing, thank goodness. Tony snagged a couple of little ice cream cups as he went. After a quick check to be sure, he handed the pistachio off to Bucky and kept the mint chocolate chip for himself. He caught Nat’s eye and raised the little goblet to her in a silent toast, and enjoyed her smug, pleased smile.

“Pretty sure she did that entirely for her own benefit,” Bucky said, spooning ice cream over his slice of cake.

“Pretty sure I do not care,” Tony pointed out. “It’s _ice cream_.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is nothing but sappy wedding-night porn. No plot elements, for the smut-averse.

It was stupid to be nervous, right? Of course it was. It was still _Tony_ , no matter that Bucky’d just hung a title around his neck and stuck a ring on his finger. Nothing had changed, and yet at the same time, _everything_ had changed. Married. Husbands. Family.

Okay, so maybe being nervous wasn’t entirely stupid. It was new and different. Special. And Bucky had been watching Tony in a bespoke tux the whole evening. Jan truly had outdone herself, and Bucky made a mental note to send her a very personal thank you gift.

The man himself was apparently almost oblivious to Bucky’s regard, loosening his bow tie and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt until he looked a little rumpled. Almost shocking, how badly Bucky wanted to rumple him up some more, until he looked completely debauched. Hmmm. That was a nice thought.

Although it probably wasn’t far enough to the hotel to consider some quick and dirty action in the limo. They were staying overnight in a local place and then getting on a plane to take them to the port tomorrow, where they’d head out on a cruise. Bucky had never been on a cruise before; he wasn’t sure if he was looking forward to it, or not. But he’d be with Tony, and really, in the end, that was all that was important. Unless he got seasick. That might suck.

Tony’s foot slipped up the back of Bucky’s calf, catching his attention again. “You okay?” Tony asked.

Bucky smiled, tugged Tony’s feet up until he had them in his lap and ran a thumb down Tony’s socked foot. “I’m great. Just thinkin’ there’s not enough time t’ do you proper in the limo. Always did sort of fantasize about it, when I was younger.”

“Yeah?” Tony’s eyebrows went up. “I can tell the driver to just drive around for a while if you want. But unless you planned better than I did, I feel like I should point out that there’s no lube in here.”

Bucky gave a huge, mock sigh. “Ah well,” he said. “Maybe next time.” Besides, then they’d have to get back into the tuxes, sweaty and sticky, and go through check-in, and… yeah, maybe better to do some planning. He wanted to take his time, enjoy it. Not rush or hurry or worry what the driver was thinking. And in the meanwhile, he could get Tony moaning and relaxed in a different way. He cupped Tony’s foot with his hand and started rubbing, working the ache out of being in dress-shoes and dancing for what seemed like hours.

“Oh god,” Tony groaned, sinking deeper into the plush seat. “You’re perfect. Marry me.”

“Well, it’s just your lucky day, ain’t it, babe?” Bucky grinned. Tony was so very malleable when he was getting a rub down. “You remember the first time I did this for you? Memorial Day? Rubbed your hands for a while. Thought I was gonna die, wanting you.”

“Well, I’m glad to know it was mutual,” Tony laughed. “I thought I’d already died and gone to heaven, getting to put my hands on you. God, we were idiots. No wonder Nat had to smack us around.”

“And she enjoys it,” Bucky said. He got his thumb into the arch of Tony’s foot and the way he rocked up at that, groaning… ah, fuck it. Bucky shoved one of Tony’s legs onto the floor and crawled up to rest between Tony’s thighs. “I think I’m going to kiss you now, _husband_.”

Tony’s hands cupped Bucky’s face. “Best idea I’ve heard all night, _husband_.” He leaned forward to meet Bucky’s mouth, match it, slotting them together in a way that was at once long-familiar and electrifyingly new. His tongue teased at the corner of Bucky’s lips, slipped between them and mapped the contours of Bucky’s mouth slowly, as if he didn’t already have every inch of Bucky’s body memorized.

Bucky opened his mouth to Tony’s kiss, and as their tongues tangled together in heat and wet and need, he grabbed hold of Tony’s shoulders, pulled him closer. Sometimes it was utter frustration that the laws of physics applied and they couldn’t literally become one, but Bucky would settle for what he could get. God, Tony was so hot, so sensual, against him. The taste of him flickered like fire through Bucky’s veins. He sucked Tony’s lower lip into his mouth, tugging urgently.

His hand ran down Tony’s chest, then yanked at the shirt, pulling the material out and letting Bucky get a hand up underneath, fingers roaming over the supple, sensitive skin at Tony’s hip. “Why… why do you always have too much clothing on?” Bucky muttered. “Gonna spend at least two days on that stupid boat not even letting you get out of bed, or dressed. Just… _hnnnnng_ , you are so…” He ran out of words, which was probably because Tony had just stuck his tongue in Bucky’s ear, which always made Bucky a little weak.

Tony chuckled. “No argument here,” he said, his voice low and his breath tickling the side of Bucky’s neck. Tony’s teeth scraped along the shell of Bucky’s ear until Bucky whined, and then began nipping their way downward. “Why do you think I suggested a cruise? Whole days at sea with no reason whatsoever to leave the cabin, only have to get out of bed for room service.”

Bucky managed to get Tony’s shirt completely untucked and his hands over the smooth skin of Tony’s chest, thumbing one nipple erect and Tony was no less busy, stripping off Bucky’s tie and pushing his jacket down around his elbows when the limo pulled up in front of the hotel. God damn it. Bucky ran one shaking hand through his hair and climbed out. He grabbed his tie and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket before slinging the jacket over his shoulder.

“Come on, babe, the faster we get through check in…” Bucky managed a nervous laugh and winked at his husband.

“Yep, I’m right behind you,” Tony said. He looked at his dress shoes in dismay, then looked out at the short walkway into the hotel, and scooped them up in his hands.

The limo driver had already gotten their luggage out of the trunk and propped it on the walkway. He opened the door for them, and Tony gave Bucky a wide grin and a leering wink. “ _Right_ behind you.”

The woman who checked them in was not quick, but she was kind, and she winked at them when she finally passed over the card keys. “Enjoy your honeymoon, Mr. and Mr. Stark-Barnes.” She waited until they’d gotten almost out of earshot, before adding in a pleasantly sweet voice, “Have good sex.”  

Bucky laughed, thumbed the button to the elevator and called back over his shoulder, “I _intend_ to.”

***

The elevator doors hadn’t fully closed before Tony found himself pushed against the wall, Bucky’s mouth closing on his, Bucky’s body pressed against him from chest to knee. He groaned into it and twined his arms around his husband’s -- _husband!_ That was never going to get old. -- neck. God, he could climb Bucky like a fucking _tree_.

Panting for breath, he glanced over Bucky’s shoulder at the floor indicator. “Jesus, did they flip a switch for _extra slow_ or something?”

“Mmmm,” Bucky hummed thoughtfully into Tony’s ear. “You in a hurry, sweetheart?” He did something, Tony wasn’t quite sure what, exactly, and suddenly Tony was lifted up, back against the wall, legs around Bucky’s waist, barely braced on the thin rail that went around the elevator. Bucky rolled his hips, pressing into Tony’s thigh.

“ _Yes_ ,” Tony hissed. “I want out of this damn elevator and into our _room_ , where I can get you out of this damn tux and touch you properly.” He pulled Bucky into a kiss, fierce and hot.

On the other hand, kissing Bucky never got old. Bucky was utterly responsive, ruining Tony for any other kisses. Bucky kissed and nibbled at Tony’s mouth, then down the side of his throat, forcing Tony to loll his head back. Bucky took advantage and tongued the hollow at the base of his neck, unfastening a button or two as he went.

_Ding!_

“Oh thank god,” Tony rasped. He arched his back, pushing away from the wall as well as he could. “Come on, before the doors close again.”

Bucky let him down and they scrambled into the hall, shoving their suitcases. There weren’t that many rooms on the penthouse floor -- honeymoon suites were nice that way -- and Tony was already slotting the card into the keyslot when Bucky scooped him up, bridal-style and tucked him against Bucky’s chest.

Tony yelped in surprise and then laughed, wrapping one arm around Bucky’s shoulders as he pushed at the door with the other hand. “Okay,” he agreed. “Don’t you dare drop me.”

“Never,” Bucky said. He shoved the door open with his hip, rotating slightly to carry Tony inside without banging him into the doorframe. The honeymoon suite was huge and set up to highlight the stark reality of the enormous bed, on a slight raised platform, right in the center. A few vases around the room were filled with flowers, casting a subtle, rich scent into the air. There was even a plate of chocolates beside the bed. Bucky gave Tony another quick kiss, marched him right across the room and laid him down on the bed.

“Be right back,” he said, and went to fetch the bags.

Tony grinned and propped himself up on one elbow to keep an eye on Bucky. How. How the _hell_ had he gotten so lucky?

Bucky dropped the bags not far inside, hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, then bolted it, just in case. He peeled out of the tuxedo jacket and dropped it on a chair. “I could live a hundred years an’ never want anything as much as I want you.” He fiddled with the cufflinks and then unbuttoned his shirt as he crossed back over to the bed.

“Good news, then, babe: you’ve got me.” Tony tossed his own jacket over the side of the bed, then reached out to catch Bucky’s hand as he climbed up onto the bed.

“Well, not yet, I don’t,” Bucky said. He nuzzled at Tony’s neck, fiddled with the shirt’s buttons for a moment, “but I’m aimin’ to fix that.” Peeling back the shirt, he sighed at Tony’s undershirt. “...you think we have to wear all this shit as some sort of torture, designed back in the middle ages, or is it supposed to heighten the anticipation, or somethin’?”

Tony grinned. “I’m going to assume that’s a rhetorical question; if you wanted fashion history, you should be talking to Jan.” He slipped his hands under Bucky’s opened shirt, pushing it off, tugging at Bucky’s undershirt to get his hands on the warm skin beneath. He let go only long enough to let Bucky pull his shirts off, then went back to worming his way under the waistband of Bucky’s trousers.

Bucky straddled Tony’s thighs, pulling the belt out of the loops in one smooth, sleek yank, then messed with the fastener of Tony’s pants. “Here, lift up,” and he worked the trousers down over Tony’s hips, before standing up a moment to get rid of his own.

Tony sat up, pulling Bucky closer and kissing him again, over and over, until he was breathless and dizzy with it. “God, you’re just so... so... _mine_.”

Bucky paused at that, to stare in wonder. He cupped the side of Tony’s face, traced the line of his jaw with one trembling thumb. “Yes,” Bucky said, then leaned in to kiss him again, light. As if that one kiss lit a fire under him, Bucky moved, shifted, kissing Tony’s chin, his throat. Slithered down the length of Tony’s body to kiss and lick and taste. He closed his mouth over Tony’s nipple, plundering and devouring, stroking the hardening flesh with his tongue.

Oh god, oh god... Tony grabbed onto Bucky’s hair, pulling them back down onto the bed, holding Bucky to him, back arching into each soft, warm touch. “God, baby, what you do to me...” His breath hissed out in a whine when Bucky’s teeth scraped delicately over the sensitive point. “Bucky...”

Bucky licked and mouthed his way down the flat planes of Tony’s chest, across his stomach to nip at the sensitive skin near his hip. Slow, he pulled his hand up, from Tony’s knee and across his thigh to meet in the middle. He drew a teasing finger over the front panel of Tony’s silk boxers, a whisper of sensation in thin lines across his stiffened cock.

“Oh, _god_ , Bucky,” Tony panted, arching and writhing -- already, fuck, and they’d only just gotten here. It was like the whole day had been one long, sustained tease. He was going to go off like a bottle rocket if this kept up. “Honey, oh god, baby, please...” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t know if he meant for it to stop or _never_ stop.

“God, I love listenin’ to you beg for it,” Bucky said, glancing up. He kept up that teasing motion, not moving any faster, simply brushing the tip of one finger, back and forth, then up and down along the length, then drew circles around Tony’s balls. He waited until Tony had leaned up on his elbows to watch him, then licked through the fabric, getting the front panel wet. “But you know what, baby?”

Tony’s eyes fluttered shut and he forced them open again, because fuck if he was missing a _single second_ of this. “What?” he asked, already hoarse with wanting.

Bucky crawled back up until he was laying on top of Tony, pressing him into the mattress. He kissed Tony’s mouth again, flicked his tongue over Tony’s bottom lip, then said, “Tonight, I want to beg _you_. I wanna be on my knees in front of you, let you open me up, fuck me raw until I’m screaming for you. Want you to tell me I can’t come, not yet, just a little longer. Then I want you to pull out when you’re ready and come all over my skin.”

Jesus. Fucking. _Christ_. Tony shuddered all over. He slid his hands up Bucky’s arms, slow and easy. “Yeah? That’s what you want, is it?” His voice shook, and he didn’t even care. He tightened his hold and pushed, rolling them over.

Bucky went easily, eyes wide and dark as Tony straddled his hips. Tony held his shoulders, let Bucky feel the weight as Tony leaned in for a soft kiss. “Then ask nice, honey.”

Bucky closed his eyes, bit his lip, then gazed up at Tony. “Please, baby,” he said, earnest, and low, voice a rich rumble. “Please, Tony… love. I want you, want you so bad.”

God, that went _straight_ to Tony’s cock. He brushed a thumb across Bucky’s lips. “That’s good, sweetheart, so good. You’re gonna get me, every bit of me, I promise.” He kissed Bucky again, soft and then dirty and hard, thrusting his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, sucking on Bucky’s tongue and nipping Bucky’s lip until it was red and swollen. He drew back to look, and Bucky already looked debauched, hair tousled and blush spreading down his chest and up his face, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, barely showing pupil-blown eyes. “God, you’re so gorgeous. Going to look even better when I’m in you,” he promised, “when you’re desperate for it and hanging on my word.”

Bucky rolled his hips up and groaned. “Already desperate,” he promised. He licked his bottom lip to soothe it. “Wantin’ you all damn day. So goddamn _fine_.”

“Mm, well that makes two of us,” Tony said. He traced the shell of Bucky’s ear with his tongue, trailed down his throat, licking and sucking, enjoying the contrast of the delicate skin and the rasp of stubble. Bucky’s collarbone was under his mouth, then, so Tony sucked on that, too. He slid lower, feeling the slide of Bucky’s cock under his stomach as he slipped down to tease Bucky’s nipples into peaks, sucking and tasting.

Bucky arched up into it, tossing his head back and forth restlessly. His hands came up to clutch at Tony’s hair, fingers brushing along his scalp, the back of his neck. “Tony…” Bucky whimpered as Tony scraped his teeth over Bucky’s nipple. “Oh, god, like that…”

“You like this, honey?” Tony purred, and did it again, just to feel the way Bucky’s hands tightened in his hair, to hear the stutter in Bucky’s breath. He nuzzled across to the other nipple, torturing it the same way, pinching the first lightly. Teeth and tug and suck and tweak and flick of the tongue and scrape of fingernails, until Bucky was gasping and whining, hands half-consciously fisting and releasing in Tony’s hair, on his shoulder, in the sheets.

“Oh, god, Tony…” Bucky panted for breath, twisting and squirming under Tony. His hips rolled and suddenly Tony could feel the full length of him, rutting against Tony’s stomach. The movement rocked his body up under Tony’s, pressed his knee lightly against Tony’s cock. Bucky’s eyes widened at the sound Tony made, then his lips twisted into a sly smirk, did it again, that eager, sweet friction.   

Tony groaned again, then surged up to kiss the breath from Bucky’s mouth. “Naughty,” he chided, teasing. “You want me to move faster, is that it?” He slipped a hand between them, brushing along Bucky’s length. “Need me to pay some attention here?”

Bucky threw his head back and moaned, hands going down to clench at the sheets, holding himself in place. “Oh, god. God, your hands are goddamn _magic_.” He rocked his hips, letting Tony tease and tempt him.

Tony watched Bucky fighting his impulses and fuck if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen. “Oh, honey,” he breathed, “sweetheart, you’re so gorgeous. I’m going to give you just what you asked for, I promise, but I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get to taste you, first...” He slipped his fingers under the waistband of Bucky’s shorts and tugged them down, careful to keep them from catching on Bucky’s cock as Bucky’s hips came up to help.

“There we go,” Tony said. He shoved off his own boxers impatiently and settled into the cradle of Bucky’s legs, admiring Bucky’s cock. Dark with need and dripping precome, it made Tony’s mouth water. He licked a broad stripe from base to tip, ending with a playful spiral around the head to catch that hint of bitterness.

Bucky’s knees came up and he practically clamped his ankles behind Tony’s head. “Tony…” He was gasping for air, taking great, clawing breaths of it. “Oh, god, that… more, more.” He arched up, hips straining, back making a perfect curve against the bed. “Need… need you.”

“Anything you want, honey,” Tony promised. “I’m right here, I’m all yours, tonight and always.” He sucked in the head of Bucky’s cock, flicked his tongue against the delicate ridges, traced the shape of them, and pulled off just as Bucky’s voice stretched into a keening moan. “Just have to hold off for me, okay, baby? Want to come together, after I fuck you. Can you do that?”

“... oh god…” Bucky managed, voice breathy and broken. “Yeah, yeah, I… maybe, oh, _Christ_ , do not look at me like that if you want me to wait.”

Tony chuckled wickedly and flicked his tongue along Bucky’s length. “You can do it,” he said, confident, but he didn’t give Bucky another hot stare, because he knew that clinging-by-your-fingernails desperation, and he wanted to draw it out, but not set Bucky up to fail. Another flick of the tongue, catching a welling bead of precome. “Mm, sweetheart, you taste so good.” A scatter of kisses against the inside of Bucky’s thigh, listening to the harsh rasp of Bucky’s breath until it began to slow a little, until the muscle there stopped jumping with every soft touch. “Feeling good, baby?”

“So good,” Bucky said. He relaxed his legs, letting them fall open. He leaned onto one elbow, staring down at Tony, one hand in Tony’s hair. “You’re amazing, and I love you.” When Tony tipped his head to look up, Bucky laughed, a little hitching catch of air, and used his hand to block his view. “No looking, I said.” He was still chortling, a little bit, but another bead of precome formed and dribbled down the side of his cock.  

Tony laughed. “Have it your way,” he teased, and closed his mouth around Bucky’s cock and sucked it in until it was a hair’s breadth from triggering Tony’s gag reflex, nearly all the way to the back of his mouth. Bucky arched under him, and Tony leaned an arm against Bucky’s hip, pressing them back down. Tony traced the length of Bucky’s cock with his tongue, as best he could, feeling it pulse and jump, and hummed a little in satisfaction.

“Oh, god,” Bucky muttered again, moaning, and then the sound was cut off abruptly as he grabbed a pillow and covered his face with it, crossing both arms over it. After a moment, he tucked it under his neck and let his head fall back. “God, that’s good, baby. You’re so good t’me.”

Tony sucked and licked and teased until Bucky’s breath began to hitch and his voice took on that desperate gasp, and then he pulled away, kissing down the inside of Bucky’s thigh to his knee and trying not to grin at the frustrated groan. “You taste so good,” Tony told him, “I could do that for _hours_.” Another kiss on his knee, hand stroking soothingly along the outside of his leg.

“Dunno if I could,” Bucky admitted. He was quivering and shaking, sweat glistening on the side of his throat. “Havin’ a _hard_ time here,” he said, stressing the pun and smirking just a little as Tony huffed out a laugh. “Wanna touch you. Stroke you everywhere, lick you _everywhere_. Kiss you.” He was moving one hand, almost dreamily, over Tony’s shoulders, fingers tracing the edge of Tony’s hairline, making all the hairs on the back of Tony’s neck stand up.

“That sounds fantastic,” Tony said, because it did. He didn’t even try to repress his own shiver of desire. “We’re definitely putting that on the list.” He captured Bucky’s hand and pulled it to his mouth to kiss those long fingers, tongue flicking lightly at the pads. “But right now, I want to fuck you right into this mattress, hmm?”

“Oh, yeah, onboard with that, Mr. Stark-Barnes,” Bucky said, giving Tony a wink. “Want me to flip over?”

“Yeah, you do that and get comfy while I dig the lube out of the luggage.” Tony sat up and scooted back so Bucky could move without accidentally kicking him, then slid off the bed.

Bucky groaned as Tony crawled off, hand half-reaching for Tony involuntarily, then he stretched a little before rolling over onto his hands and knees. He gathered the pillows up and stacked them to push into. He turned to look, coy, over his shoulder as he let his spine bend to present.

Tony found the lube and turned to go back to the bed, but had to stop for a moment and breathe because Bucky was so _god damned beautiful_ , ass curved high, just waiting for Tony’s attention, cock hanging under Bucky’s belly, stiff and proud and still shiny from Tony’s mouth. Bucky’s head was pillowed on his arms, watching Tony with wide, dark eyes.

“Oh, baby,” Tony breathed, “look at you. God, you’re amazing. I’m going to take such good care of you, going to make you feel so good...” He climbed back onto the bed and ran a hand down Bucky’s spine, feeling Bucky shiver with anticipation.

Bucky wiggled a little, arched and dipped his back like a cat, tempting Tony’s hand lower. “Can’t wait,” he said, half-joking, half desperate seriousness.

Tony squeezed a little lube onto his fingers and trailed a teasing line from the top of Bucky’s ass downward, skating past the hole toward the perineum. “Oh, honey, you’re so pretty...” He teased at Bucky’s hole again. “You sure you’re ready?”

Bucky swallowed audibly. “Please, Tony,” he whined. “Come on, need you…”

Tony hummed like he wasn’t really sure Bucky was telling the truth, because sometimes he was an ass like that, but pressed into Bucky’s hole anyway, slow and gentle, his other hand on Bucky’s back. “Oh, you feel so warm,” he said, almost a whisper, because it took him by surprise, even though it shouldn’t have.

There weren’t words for the noise that came out of Bucky’s throat, a strangled, longing moan that seemed to go perfectly in time with the shiver that Tony wrung out of his spine. He curled his arms around his stack of pillows, head hanging loose between his arms. Bucky shifted a little, tried pushing back experimentally onto Tony’s finger. “Yeah, that…” Heated blush spotted along his chest, his back, the back of his thighs. “Like that, god, Tony, yes.”

Tony shivered; _Christ_ but this was something... He couldn’t even name it. It was more than lust, more than making love, even. Something primal and perfect, an aching need to make Bucky feel good that overrode even his own not-inconsiderable desires. “I’ve got you, honey,” he promised, “I’m going to give you what you need.” He dropped a kiss on Bucky’s hip and pressed in deeper, still slow, testing Bucky’s reactions, tugging at the tight muscle, coaxing it to relax.

Bucky writhed, asscheeks flexing. He was practically pressing his face into the mattress, turned just a little sideways to breathe, hair damp and stringy with sweat. He groped backward with one hand, reaching for Tony, fingers brushing against Tony’s thigh, the only part he could reach. The other hand was clenched tight in the blankets as he shifted and shivered.

Tony took Bucky’s reaching hand with his free one, squeezing. “I’ve got you, I love you.” He pulled back and pushed in again, a slow, easy thrust, and set up a rhythm, pressing deeper and deeper each time. “Oh, honey, that’s good, that’s so good...” He let go of Bucky’s hand long enough to add some more lube, then picked it back up. “There you go, baby, I can feel you letting me in.” He added a second finger, pressing slow and relentless, stretching.

Bucky rocked in time with Tony’s hand, sucking air in through his mouth and moaning on the exhale. “Come on, more, Tony, like that, I…” he urged. Tony’s fingers pushed in, curved, and Bucky hissed, for all the world sounding like a cat that had just gotten hit with a garden hose. Tony stopped moving and Bucky whined, “No, that was good, god, Tony, don’t stop.” He rocked back again, then tugged his hand free. Bucky palmed his dick, stroked a few times, then gave Tony back his fingers. “God, so ready for you,” he murmured. “Need you baby, want you in me, come on.”

Tony hummed a little and kept stretching, feeling the shocking heat and the tightness of Bucky’s passage, rocking into his prostate every few thrusts. “Soon, baby,” he said. “Want you nice and ready.”

If looks could kill… well, no, but if looks could make someone come, Tony would be shooting off right then. Bucky raised up on all fours and cast a hot, wanting, dangerously aroused look over his shoulder. His normally blue eyes were so pupil-blown as to look black, his lip swollen and slick. “Tony…” For a moment, Tony thought he might say something else, but then he dropped back until his forehead was brushing the mattress. He groaned, deep and resonant, and Tony could feel the vibrations of it in his hand. Bucky’s muscles clenched down on Tony’s fingers. Rocking with Tony’s movements, he lapsed into a series of whines and moans, coupled with deep, pleading sounds and words, but he didn’t move from that spot, just flexed his hips and accepted; leaned into the pleasure without trying to rush Tony along anymore. “God….”

“Oh, that’s perfect, sweetheart,” Tony purred. And god, he could do this for hours, too, just watching Bucky push back into his touch, listening to those gorgeous sounds. But he wanted more, too, so after only another minute or so, he pulled completely free, squeezing Bucky’s hand once more before letting go. “All right,” he said, and knelt up between Bucky’s legs, rubbing into Bucky’s crack. It felt like lighting a sudden fire in his half-forgotten dick, the way need blazed through him, leaving him breathless. “Oh, god... Oh, you’re going to feel so fucking good.” More lube, and he slid his hand over the small of Bucky’s back. “Ready for me, husband?”

“ _Finally_ ,” Bucky said, probably meaning to sound dry and sarcastic, but he missed the mark entirely. Tony wasn’t sure he’d ever heard that word said with quite so much longing. “So good, Tony, want it. Want you.” He bowed his back, changing the angle again just a little, hole open and glistening and _ready_.

“Love you,” Tony breathed, and pressed in, careful, watching the way Bucky breathed and tensed and-- oh _god_ it felt... it felt so goddamn good. Jesus, you’d think he’d never topped before, but... But it was different, now. “Baby,” he gasped, “Bucky, you feel so amazing, honey.” It was all he could do not to simply slam home, thrust in to the hilt and bury himself in that heat. “So good, sweetheart.”

In, finally, as deep as he could get, though if he could climb entirely into Bucky’s skin and live there, he thought he would. He panted and dropped his head onto Bucky’s back. “Bucky, babe?”

“I gotcha,” Bucky slurred. “God, so deep.” He sounded almost asleep, voice low and words rolling on top of each other like rocks in a tumbler. He shifted his hips, rocking back and forth, then clenched, a ripple of muscle and pressure and sensation that nearly broke Tony’s control right there. After a moment, he loosened up again, slick and hot and inviting.  

Tony groaned and shuddered. “Oh, fuck,” he rasped. “Tell me I can move, I need...” He swallowed hard, chased after his breath. “Need you so bad.”

“‘M good,” Bucky said. “Yeah, oh, good. It’s good.” He rocked himself back, pushing Tony deeper, shifted again. “Love me, do it now.”

“Yeah, you got it,” Tony said, vaguely aware he was babbling and not caring. He took hold of Bucky’s hips and pulled out, nearly entirely, then pushed back in, easy and slick and oh _fuck_ good, so good... “Oh, shit,” he choked, and then dropped his head and set a rhythm, deep and heavy. Christ, he wasn’t going to last much longer, and Bucky had to be dying for it. “Touch yourself,” he said, hoarse, “want to feel you coming around me, coming on my cock.”

Bucky raised up a little, licked his palm and then reached between his legs. Tony knew as soon as he made the first stroke because Bucky shuddered all over like someone had touched him with a live wire. He pumped his dick through his fist a few times, then reached back even further, teasing at the place where they were joined together, light, brushing touches over the base of Tony’s cock, against his balls when they smacked into Bucky’s ass.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, soft, low, slurred, “yeah, you got it, babe.”

And then he was jerking himself off in rhythm with Tony’s thrusts, groaning every time Tony slammed into him. “Oh, god. Oh, Tony… oh… _oh…_ ” He squeezed again, passage growing hotter, tighter, a series of soft, throbbing clenches. And then he was coming, spurting, painting the sheets with it.

Tony almost came right then, the feel of Bucky around him, the _sound_... He had to bite his lip nearly through to hold back until Bucky finished, was loose enough to pull out without hurting him. What Bucky had wanted-- Tony grabbed his dick in a grip almost painfully tight and stroked once, twice, three times before he came, thick white rope falling onto Bucky’s skin, back and ass, and oh _Jesus_ that was... Tony had to close his eyes or he  was going to come again dry, just at the sight of it, Bucky marked with his come... “Oh _god_ ,” he groaned. “God, I love you.”

Bucky shivered with reaction, skin twitching where Tony’s spill landed. “That… so _hot_ ,” Bucky managed between gasps of air. He stayed there for a long moment, head hanging down, eyes closed, on his knees. Shaking. “Oh, god…” Finally he raised up a bit and tried really hard to look over his shoulder at his own back, grinning a little sheepishly. “That was awesome. Like a porno. Love you, Tony. God… so much.”

Tony laughed, somewhere between shaky and hysterical. “I am here for all your porn-replication fantasies,” he teased. “Should I take a picture before I get us cleaned up?”

Bucky rolled his spine, until his thighs were flat on the bed but his back was up, supported by his arms. “Oh, would you?” He blushed, pink and pleased.

“Whatever you want,” Tony said. He peered over the edge of the bed until he found his jacket, and fished in the inside pocket for his phone. One good picture of just Bucky’s back and then another pulled back to cover his ass and-- “Turn your head to look at me and try to look porno-debauched,” he said, smirking.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a real expression,” Bucky pointed out, but he tossed his head, swinging his sweat-drenched hair out of the way, except for a few strands that clung to his skin and gave Tony his bedroom eyes. “Good enough?” And he sucked in his lower lip, biting down on the abused skin there.

Tony hit the camera button more or less on automatic, unable to look away from that expression. “God, you’re going to kill me,” he complained. “I can’t go again this fast, you have to give me at least ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes, huh?” Bucky said. He stretched and then climbed out of the bed. “Let’s get in a quick shower. Siri, set timer, ten minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of yet another Sandbridge story! Stay tuned -- on Sunday, we'll start posting "From the Ukraine with Love", which is the story of Steve and Nat. (If that doesn't interest you, make sure you're subscribed anyway; when this one is done, we'll be right back to Bucky and Tony!)


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